Release Blitz + Giveaway: Awakenings and French Songs by Nell Iris



Celebrate the JMS Books release of Awakenings and French Songs with author Nell Iris and Signal Boost Promotions! Enter in the eBook giveaway of Finding the One! (Two winners!)





Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | JMS 

Length: 11,000 words approx.

Publisher: JMS Books 

Blurb

Iggy Wilker never expected his 36th birthday to turn into an existential crisis. When Iggy’s friends celebrate him with his usual favorite pastime -- drinking, dancing, and willing guys -- he suddenly wants nothing to do with any of it. He’s fed up and ready for something else. The question is what?


Ronan Clenney has had his eye on his neighbor forever, but as a single father of a precocious eleven-year-old, he’s never believed he stands a chance. But over a late night cup of tea, it seems circumstances have changed. Is this the right time, finally?


Iggy has never believed in romance, but can Ronan show him he’s wrong? That love is a real thing?


Excerpt


“Iggy?” A slow smile blooms on his face and his eyes brighten. “What are you doing up this early? What happened to no knocking on my door before ten on weekends, young Miss Emery?” he asks, imitating my words perfectly.


“I grew old, that’s what happened.”


“Awww. Poor Iggy.”


“Hey! Be nice or I won’t share my breakfast.” I hold up the bags to show him what he’d be missing.


His eyebrows shoot to the heavens. “You brought breakfast?”


“Um, yeah. You gonna let me in, or ...?”


“Of course. You just about shocked me to death, that’s all.” He pretends to clutch his pearls.


“That seems to be my theme this week,” I mutter and follow him to the kitchen.


“I was just about to start breakfast --” he points at a carton of eggs, “-- but I guess I don’t have to?”


“Nope. Coffee would be good though. I didn’t buy any.”


“Sure.” He leans over to the machine and pushes the button. “All done.” He grins at me and takes a seat at the table. “Show me what you got.”


He watches as I unload my purchases. Baguettes. Croissants. Pain au chocolat. A box of pastel colored macarons I bought only because they’re so pretty and I thought Emery would appreciate the pinks and purples and yellows. Three tiny, fancy-looking jars of French jam; black cherry, fig and walnut, and raspberry. And finally, a box of huge, dark red strawberries the bakery sold for some unknown reason.


Ronan’s mouth falls open as he takes in everything. “What brought this on?”


I take my usual spot at the table. “I’ve had that song on my mind ever since the other night. I have no idea what it’s called or what the guy was singing about, but I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. So when I walked past Knead It and they had a French flag hanging in the window, I couldn’t help myself.”


“Which song?”


I hum a few bars, hoping I don’t butcher it too much so he won’t recognize it, but he nods.


“‘Ne me quitte pas’ by Jacques Brel.”


I repeat the title in a terrible French accent. “What does it mean?”


“It means ‘Don’t leave me.’”


His words make my heart stutter in my chest. “It’s great. So emotional,” I rasp out.


“I didn’t know you were a fan of old French songs.”


“I’m not. But it’s really beautiful.” The explanation feels inadequate, but I don’t know how to express myself better.


He doesn’t talk for several seconds, and then he says, “Huh.” His gaze is full of questions he’s not asking, and he doesn’t let up the intense scrutiny for even a moment. Inside, I’m squirming like a maggot on a fish hook, but I hope I manage to present a calm exterior.


For the first time ever, things are weird between us. The conversation is stilted, and the silences awkward. I know why, of course. By showing up like this, I changed the dynamics of our relationship. I’ve never been one for socializing in the mornings. And while I’ve brought the occasional pizza or six-pack, I’ve never brought anything like this before. Something meaningful. Something that shows I’ve been thinking about him and the time we spent together. Something serious.


I can’t blame him for wondering what’s going on. He listens to that French stuff all the time and I’m sure he’s played that song a million times before, but it’s like I heard it for the very first time on Wednesday.


I can’t stand his close examination any longer, so I get up and start setting the table with plates and cups and cutlery. “What’s the deal with you and all the French stuff anyway?” I ask with my head buried in the refrigerator, looking for butter and something for Emery to drink since she’s not allowed coffee.


“My grandmother was from France. She always used to sing the old songs to me and teach me the lyrics.”


I place a cutting board and a bread knife on the table. “Oh. What was her name?”


“Celeste.”


“That’s a beautiful name.”


“Yes.”


I look around for something else to do. “Do you speak French?”


“Iggy?”


I gulp, knowing what’s coming. “Yes?” Reluctantly, I retake my seat at the table.


“Why are you really here?” His voice is soft and caring and I’ve heard him use the same tone when he speaks to Emery about important matters.


I line up the jam jars in a perfect row, needing something to do with my hands. “I ... uh ... want to spend more time with you and Emery.”



Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bona fide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies’ room), loves music (and singing along but, let’s face it, she’s no Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (“Make it so”). She loves words, poetry, wine, and Sudoku, and absolutely adores elephants!

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

Nell is a forty-something bisexual Swedish woman, married to the love of her life, and a proud mama of a grown daughter. She left the Scandinavian cold and darkness for warmer and sunnier Malaysia a few years ago, and now spends her days writing, surfing the Internet, enjoying the heat, and eating good food. One day she decided to chase her lifelong dream of being a writer, sat down in front of her laptop, and wrote a story about two men falling in love.

Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angst, and wants to write diverse and different characters.

Email contact@nelliris.com
Web www.nelliris.com
Twitter @nellirisauthor
Facebook page www.facebook.com/nellirisauthor
Facebook profile www.facebook.com/nell.iris.12
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/nelliris
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/nell_iris/
QueeRomance Ink https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/nell-iris/



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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Out in the Offense (Out in College #3) by Lane Hayes


Celebrate the release blitz of Out in the Offense (Out in College #3) with author Lane Hayes and IndiGo Marketing! Enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!

Title: Out in the Offense
Series: Out in College #3
Author: Lane Hayes
Publisher: Lane Hayes
Release Date: January 10, 2019
Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 54k
Genre: Romance, New Adult, Bisexual, College romance, Football, Coming out

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Synopsis

Christian Rafferty is a talented quarterback with a big secret. He’s determined to make the most of his final season on the football field, and if possible, avoid any confrontations with his conservative parents about his future. It shouldn’t be difficult; he’s become adept at keeping his public and private lives separate. However, when a math class threatens to derail his plans to graduate on time, he realizes he may need outside help.

Rory Kirkland has a reputation for being a tough guy. He’s a former wrestler and recent college graduate who needs a real job. Until he finds one, tutoring is a decent temporary gig. Luckily, his brain is his biggest asset. Rory is a genius. He credits his sport for helping him deal with angst and rumors about his sexuality when he was younger, but he doesn’t care what others think anymore. He likes his new status as an out and proud bi man; and he recognizes something of himself in Christian. But Rory didn’t count on falling for him. When an unlikely friendship collides with intense attraction, both men begin to realize that coming out on offense just might be the surest path to love.

Excerpt

"Can I do anything to help?” I asked, setting my backpack on one of the two barstools at the narrow counter space.

“Nope. As soon as the veggies are sautéed, we’ll be ready to eat. Want something to drink?”

“Yes, please. Water is fine. Where’s Buttons?”

Rory pulled a water bottle from the small fridge behind him and handed it over, then pointed at a basket next to the sofa.

“She’s hiding behind that basket. She’ll make an appearance if she decides you’re worthy. In the meantime, there’s bread in that basket on the counter next to your bag. Help yourself. I’ll bring dinner out.”

I thanked him, then twisted the cap from the water bottle and took a generous sip before rounding the corner in search of the bread. I was ravenous. I bit into the baguette with gusto before turning to check out my surroundings.

Rory’s apartment was tiny. Probably half the size of mine and much older. But unlike the rough exterior, it was…pleasant. Surprisingly so. A short wall delineated the narrow kitchen from the main living area. There was just enough room for a sofa, an ottoman, a TV console, and a smallish television. Two barstools were tucked under the small peninsula by the cut-out in the kitchen wall. The palette was basic “dude”…dark leather against stark white walls, though a large red throw rug anchored the room and provided a nice splash of color. It was simple—but tidy and very clean.

“Your place is cool,” I commented when he entered the room, carrying two plates and a large bowl.

“Thanks. Let’s sit on the sofa. We have more room to eat there,” he said decisively as he set his burden on the coffee table. “Help yourself. I’ll get some forks, napkins, and extra veggies.”

I obeyed and quickly got to work, scooping chicken fettucine Alfredo onto both plates. Rory joined me a minute later, handing over the silverware before taking a seat next to me. I shot a bashful sideways glance at him as I reached for a napkin.

“Do you eat like this every night?”

“It’s really nothing special. I make sauces in bulk and freeze them. Then it’s just a matter of adding protein and veggies. By the way, this Alfredo is a healthy version. If you want to drown it in parmesan, feel free. I won’t be offended. Cheers.” He tapped his water bottle against mine and winked.

“Cheers. And thanks again. This is incredible and very unexpected.” I smiled as I twisted the pasta around my fork.

“You’re welcome. You sounded anxious, but you said we’re cool. Are we?”

“Of course.”

Rory tilted his head and shot me a challenging look. “Then kiss me.”

“Um…now?”

“Yeah, now. The other night could have been a fluke. Instead of wondering, let’s get it over with. One kiss should be enough to tell. C’mere,” he commanded, leaning sideways.

I set my fork down and met him halfway until our noses brushed. Then I waited for him to make the next move. He stayed stubbornly still. When I couldn’t stand the growing tension, I pressed my lips to his. And wow…amazing.

Rory was a great kisser. He had the simple art of give-and-take down to a science. He molded his mouth to mine and gently pushed his tongue inside. The connection was sweet but bold. It was more about discovery than possession. I hummed as I snaked my arm around his neck, pulling him closer. He sucked my tongue, then bit my bottom lip playfully before pulling back.

“Definitely not a fluke," he said with a devilish grin.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full-time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles to both be men. Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and won First Prize in the 2016 and 2017 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a newly empty nest.

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Review: A Ladder to the Sky by John Boyne

The new novel from the beloved New York Times bestselling author of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas and The Heart's Invisible Furies , a seductive Highsmithian psychodrama following one brilliant, ruthless man who will stop at nothing in his pursuit of fame.

Maurice Swift is handsome, charming, and hungry for success. The one thing he doesn't have is talent - but he's not about to let a detail like that stand in his way. After all, a would-be writer can find stories anywhere. They don't need to be his own. Working as a waiter in a West Berlin hotel in 1988, Maurice engineers the perfect opportunity: a chance encounter with celebrated novelist Erich Ackermann. He quickly ingratiates himself with the powerful - but desperately lonely - older man, teasing out of Erich a terrible, long-held secret about his activities during the war. Perfect material for Maurice's first novel.

Once Maurice has had a taste of literary fame, he knows he can stop at nothing in pursuit of that high. Moving from the Amalfi Coast, where he matches wits with Gore Vidal, to Manhattan and London, Maurice hones his talent for deceit and manipulation, preying on the talented and vulnerable in his cold-blooded climb to the top. But the higher he climbs, the further he has to fall...



A Ladder to the Sky is my maiden voyage with this author and I devoured it with gusto. I think it was a good place for me, specifically, to start because Maurice Swift is a sociopath. There are no "good" mental illnesses but there are ones far more interesting than others to me. Maurice is many things-amoral, narcissistic, brutally ambitious-but he's not boring. My first reaction to him as a twenty year old ingratiating himself to the aged, lonely and slightly pitiful Erich Ackermann was, 'oh, you're a nasty one, aren't you?'.

He is. He has no redeeming qualities. To be a famous author and a father are the only two things he's ever wanted. Both of which he lacks the necessary skills to attain success either for lack of creativity or lack of empathy. One would think that in and of itself would be some sort of poetic justice but is there such a thing as justice when it comes to a sociopath?

For me, that's what the book came to be about rather than his relentless climb toward fame and fortune at any cost, and in that regard, Boyne really distinguished himself by staying true to the characterization rather than serving up some sort of insipid claptrap.

Maurice is diabolical and lives his life inveigling ideas from others for his own personal gain without remorse. He has several weapons in his arsenal. The most powerful of which are his considerable good looks, sex or the withholding of it, his affection, his time, his money, his business nothing is off-limits. They're all just a means to an end, people are disposable to him and this is his story told in three parts, covering most of his lifespan and how he increasingly contravenes morality to get what he wants.

The first part is told from Ackermann and Gore Vidal's perspectives. There aren't enough superlatives to describe how much I loved this part. Ackermann is a sympathetic character who did a terrible thing but his motivation for doing so is what separates him from Maurice.

Gore Vidal, though, is having none of Maurice Swift and it was fantastic! A long time ago I bought a copy of "Vanity Fair". I'm sure there was some celebrity on the cover that I just had to know all the things about but what I wound up discovering was Dominick Dunne. Immediately charmed by him and his particular brand of storytelling, I found myself signing up for a subscription. Every month I couldn't wait to see what stories Dominick would tell me. He knew EVERYONE and everyone knew him; he was a urbane and people gravitated toward him, myself included. Gore reminded me of Dominick and I found myself feeling bereft that I'd missed out on the Gore Vidal experience. This is not a humorous book but some of what came out of his mouth not to mention his thoughts had me snorting.

The second part is told from Maurice's wife, Edith's perspective. This was the weakest section of the book to me and not for the obvious reasons. It encompasses her work as a newly successful author and professor which made sense since it's her story too but it also involved her family. She has a pathological sister, Rebecca, who is embroiled in a divorce/custody battle that took a significant amount of page time and I couldn't make heads or tails of why it was necessary to the narrative. To illustrate how sociopaths come in all shapes, sizes and genders? True, but not crucial to the story, in my opinion. I liked Edith and her voice but the family drama I could've done without.

The third part we delve into the mind of the sociopath. Entertaining, thy name is Maurice Swift. Truthfully, I could probably write a short story about Maurice but I'll refrain and just say he's ruthless, contemptible and obnoxious, but also cunning and charismatic when he chooses to be, thus is the nature of the sociopath. If I said I wasn't absorbed by him, it would be a lie.

Each section was given its own tone and voice which is what I was most dazzled by. Even the writing style changes to fit each person. If that's not embodying a character, I've no idea what is. I did notice the words 'crestfallen' and 'daresay' often but maybe these are mainstays of the literary types? A minor quibble in an otherwise outstanding and infinitely readable story. Flow is certainly in Boyne's wheelhouse and I would recommend A Ladder to the Sky to those who can appreciate an unsympathetic protagonist.

Also, to whomever came up with this tongue in cheek cover, you're a genius.




A copy was provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.



Release Blitz: Stay by K.M. Neuhold


Don't miss K.M. Neuhold and Vibrant Promotions release blitz of puppy play romance, Stay, today!

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STAY
K.M. NEUHOLD
M/M PUPPY PLAY ROMANCE
RELEASE DATE: 01.11.19
stay puppy play romance version 2


BLURB
What happens to a couple when one of them discovers a new kink that he’s not sure his partner will be into?
Dear Art,
I’m sure you get messages like this all the time, but I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore. I suppose I should start from the beginning… Three weeks ago, I saw puppy play for the first time, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Wait, no, that’s not really the beginning… Ten years ago, my best friend who I’d been in love with my entire life told me he loved me too.
For ten years, I’ve been living in complete bliss with Lars, the man of my dreams. Don’t get me wrong, we have our fights and disagreements (mostly because I do irritating shit, and every once in a while, he reaches the end of his patience), but he is my other half in every way. I didn’t know I could love someone the way I love him.
Then, the puppy thing happened. It’s not so different from when I realized I was gay; there was a moment where everything sort of clicked into place, and my whole body was like “Yes, that’s what we’ve been trying to figure out all this time.” At first, I thought maybe I should just let it go because it’s not the kind of thing I can imagine my partner being into. But last week I went into a kink shop and ended up walking out with a puppy hood. I stashed it in our guest bedroom closet and haven’t even had the courage to take it out and try it on again, let alone show it to Lars. I don’t know what to do. How do I bring this up to him? And what if he isn’t into it? I feel like I don’t recognize myself anymore, and I don’t know where to turn. Please help.
Sincerely,
One Lost Puppy


stay teaser 1


EXCERPT
I turn away from him, heading deeper into the shop, and there it is, hanging innocently on the back wall alongside a number of other accessories—collars, knee pads, mittens, toys—but right now, the only thing I can see is the hood. My heart gives one of those odd flutters again, my hands shaking as I slowly make my way toward the display.


I glance around to see if anyone is watching me and realize no one else is in the store right now. I look back at the employee and find him leaning against the counter, thumbing through his phone like he couldn’t care less about what kinky shit I’m here looking for. And I’m sure he can’t. He works in a sex shop for fuck’s sake; I’m sure he’s seen it all.


The pleasant scent of leather lingers in the air around the display as I near it. When I come to a stop in front of it, my knees tremble, practically knocking together, and my breath is coming so fast I’m a little concerned I’m about to pass out from lack of oxygen.


I reach out an unsteady hand and when my fingers brush against the smooth material of the hood, a rush of excitement zips through me like an electric shock. To my surprise and slight horror, my cock begins to perk up as my fingertips dance along the muzzle and around the eyeholes, mapping the topography of it.


“You can try it on if you want.” The voice makes me jump, nearly knocking the entire display off the wall.

KM Neuhold Logo 2
Author K.M. Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together.
She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series.
When she's not writing she's a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero...just kidding, she's likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.
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Review: The Bibliophile by Drew Marvin Frayne

Nathanial Goldsmith is the only son of the richest man in the Idaho territory, Jessum Goldsmith, the Silver Baron of the Western Lands, as he is called in all the newspapers. But life in the late nineteenth-century American West weaves no magic spell for Nathanial, who longs for the academic worlds his father has forced him to leave behind.

To toughen him up, Nathanial’s father has indentured him to a ranchman, Cayuse Jem, a large, raw-boned, taciturn man Nathanial’s father believes will help teach his son to “become a man.” Cut off from his books and the life he has always known, Nathanial is not only forced to co-exist with Cayuse Jem, but to truly get to know him. In doing so, Nathanial discovers there is more to this silent horseman than meets the eye. And, in the process, Nathanial also learns a few things about life, about human nature, and about the differences in being a man and a boy…


Well, this one snuck up on me. My love for historical romance pushed me over the edge on choosing The Bibliophile and I’m glad. It’s a unique, nineteenth century story told through journal entries for one of the main characters, Nathanial. This style might not work for some and even though I would have liked some more perspective, I enjoyed it and moved right along from entry to entry.

Nathanial has been ordered to leave his studies and take his place as the only son beside his rich father to learn the family business. He’s an academic at heart and feels the most joy spending his days surrounded by books and having intellectual discussions on anything and everything. Unfortunately, Nathanial becomes indentured as a ranch hand to toughen him up and make him “a man.” Luck is shining down on him because he’s dropped off with Cayuse Jem, a huge, burly man that is the complete opposite of his father.

Cayuse, man of very few words, is a horse trainer with a very patient and gentle hand. He doesn’t believe in bending a horse or person to his will, but to coax them gently. He uses this approach with Nathanial from the first day which builds trust and a deeply meaningful connection. Cayuse slowly built him up after Nathanial’s father and grandmother spent years tearing him down.

There's a sweetness to the relationship between Cayuse and Nathanial. Nathanial is a virgin in every way, including never being kissed. He finds safety and validation with Cayuse in just being his boy. During an era of reserved life, their relationship and love is simple and peaceful. Cayuse may be a man of few words but that doesn’t make what they have any less meaningful. There’s some erotic heat between the eager pupil Nathanial AKA Boy and Cayuse that helps get through some of the more difficult times.

The Bibliophile has relatively low angst for a M/M historical romance. The angst comes from other circumstances and a devastating loss to both men. The transition from indentured servant to lover was odd. I enjoyed the entries but would have liked Cayuse’s POV. We get to know him through Nathanial’s eyes but there’s so much missing. I think having that extra insight would have helped the transition not feel so abrupt when they become lovers and smoothed some of the other areas that lacked finesse.

Overall, I really enjoyed seeing Cayuse and Nathanial ride into the sunset with their HEA. Recommended for fans of historical romance and classic literature.

P.S. I clearly missed a TON of classics while taking Lit in HS/college because Nathanial is a lover of it all, references them throughout, and left me in the dust with anything beyond Shakespeare.



A review copy was provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest opinion.


Giveaway + Blog Tour: Devouring Flame by E.J. Russell


E.J. Russell is here today to promote the recent release of her new Dreamspun Beyond release, Devouring Flame! She's talking secondary characters and even brought an excerpt from the paranormal romance. Be sure to leave a comment to be entered in the giveaway of a backlist ebook as well as a $25 DSP gift card! Good luck!



Thank you so much for helping me celebrate the release of Devouring Flame! At the end of the tour, I’ll be giving away a prize—a $25 Dreamspinner gift card plus one of my backlist titles—to one commenter (chosen at random across all the tour posts), so please be sure to join the conversation!
Devouring Flame is the second book in my series centered around the employees of Enchanted Occasions Event Planning, where the word “enchanted” is quite literally, er, literal. The EO staff are all outcast from their supernatural home realms, most of them because they’re aitchers (short for half-and-half), part human and part other, and discriminated against by Pures of all races. But they’ve found a community with their EO co-workers, and job satisfaction staging magical events for their clients.
Of course, sometimes those events get… complicated. :-)

Someone’s in the Kitchen

I love writing secondary characters, especially when I’m writing paranormal. One of the reasons for this is because it’s such fun to discover them—and their appearance and abilities—as I write.

One of my favorite characters to write is Chef, the goblin berserker who heads up Enchanted Occasions catering arm. When I introduced him in Nudging Fate, I knew he was a goblin berserker, but I didn’t know exactly what that meant until I started writing his first scene:

When Andy pushed open the swinging doors into the kitchen, the noise tripled. Chef loomed over the stove, one hand flipping vegetables in a sauté pan, his second hand steadying a metal bowl while his third hand wielded a whisk. His fourth hand groped the shelf overhead.

So just in writing that paragraph, I discovered that Chef (and presumably goblin berserkers in general) had four arms. He also has six-inch tusks and tufted ears, and regularly terrorizes Tessmacher, his long-suffering assistant, with food-related tantrums.

(By the way, Chef’s personality is inspired partially by my Curmudgeonly Husband, who is a wonderful cook, and normally quite even tempered—except when it comes to food.)

Chef is back in Devouring Flame, and gets more page time because I have such fun writing him. In fact, I invented the vampires’ Centennial Feast just so I could give Chef a bigger part. In this scene, Hashim has volunteered to assist Chef with the massive menu for the Feast, despite Smith’s initial trepidation:


“Tessmacher! Where the fuck is the saffron?” The bellow shook the floor and rattled the pans. An instant later, Chef—all eight feet of him, not counting his white chef’s toque—came bursting out of the walk-in refrigerator, two of his hands full of some kind of herb, the third brandishing a sauté pan, and the fourth closing the refrigerator as gently as if he were rocking a baby’s cradle.

Chef definitely had his priorities.

He froze when he saw the two of them by the door. “You are not Tessmacher.”

“Nope. Sorry. He’s hiding in the conference room.”

Chef’s brow clouded, and he bared his teeth. “Why would he be hiding?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Smith rested his hand in the small of Hashim’s back. “This is Hashim.”

Chef sniffed. “Ifrit. I remember you. You didn’t like my maqaniq. I prepared those sausages expressly for you.”

Hashim bowed, his palms pressed together. “I never had a chance to sample them, Chef. The poison prevented my having the pleasure. I’m certain they were delightful.”

“Hmmmph.” Chef squinted one eye. “Another smooth talker.”

Smith advanced into the kitchen. He set the new menu list—all fifty-seven pages of it—on the center prep table. “There’s a change in plans, Chef. The clients have requested an expanded menu, and we’re going to honor it.”

Chef took an enormous breath—and considering that his lungs were the size of Smith’s torso, it took him a while and made him appear even larger. “The Feast is in two days and you’re changing the menu now?”

“’Fraid so.” Smith patted the stack of paper. “Here are the details. I’ll have the required ingredients here by tomorrow evening.”

“You—Tomorrow—Ingredients—Argh!” Chef drew back his arm and hurled the pan across the room—straight at Hashim.

Who caught it before Smith could shout a warning or tackle him to the ground.

Hashim smiled blandly and set the pan on the table as a brownie sidled past with a platter of raw meat. “I am here to assist you, Chef.”

“You? What can you do, pretty boy?”

Hashim took the platter from the brownie and set it on the table. Flexing his fingers to extend his claws fully, he snagged a steak. Holding the meat in midair, he pursed his lips and expelled a perfectly controlled burst of fire.

Lucifer’s balls, he’s so fricking hot—and not just because he can breathe fire.

Hashim laid the sizzling steak in the pan he’d fielded. “I believe you’ll find the internal temperature precisely 140 degrees Fahrenheit. Medium rare. Care to sample it?” He pulled a knife out of a nearby knife block and threw it, end over end, at Chef, who snatched it out of the air.

“Urrrgh.” Chef stalked across the kitchen and speared the steak with the knife, tossing it whole into his maw. He closed his eyes as he chewed, and Smith held his breath. This still had so much potential to go sideways.

Chef swallowed, then his eyes popped open, red and glowing. “You—” He pointed the knife at Hashim and Smith got ready to leap. “—will be my sous chef.”

Hashim cocked his head. “Don’t you wish to discover whether I can cook anything else first?”

“What does that matter? You’re fireproof and you can catch.” He glared at Smith. “Get out. We have work to do.”

Smith gripped Hashim’s arm. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course he will be okay. Why wouldn’t he? Now go. You’re in the way.”


Like Smith, our family knows better than to invade the kitchen when my Curmudgeonly Husband is deep in the throes of cooking frenzy, particularly when the adult language starts painting the air blue and the pots start clanging. However, the results—like Chef’s inspired creations—are always worth it.




Devouring Flame
An Enchanted Occasions story

Reunited and reignited.
While cutting through the Interstices—the post-creation gap between realms—Smith, half-demon tech specialist for Enchanted Occasions Event Planning, spies the person he yearns for daily but dreads seeing again: the ifrit, Hashim of the Windrider clan.
On their one literally smoldering night together, Smith, stupidly besotted, revealed his true name—a demon’s greatest vulnerability. When Hashim didn’t return the favor, then split the next morning with no word? Message received, loud and clear: Thanks but no, thanks.
Although Hashim had burned to return Smith’s trust, it was impossible. The wizard who conjured him holds his true name in secret, and unless Hashim discovers it, he’ll never be free.
When their attraction sparks once more, the two unite to search for Hashim’s hidden name—which would be a hell of a lot easier if they didn’t have to contend with a convention full of food-crazed vampires on the one day out of the century they can consume something other than blood.
But if they fail, Hashim will be doomed to eternal slavery, and their reignited love will collapse in the ashes.
Luckily Smith is the guy who gets shit done. And Hashim is never afraid to heat things up.

Buy links:

Author bio:
E.J. Russell–grace, mother of three, recovering actor–writes romance in a rainbow of flavors. Count on high snark, low angst and happy endings. 

Reality? Eh, not so much.

E.J.’s paranormal romantic comedy, The Druid Next Door, was a 2018 RITA® finalist. She’s married to Curmudgeonly Husband, a man who cares even less about sports than she does. Luckily, C.H. also loves to cook, or all three of their children (Lovely Daughter and Darling Sons A and B) would have survived on nothing but Cheerios, beef jerky, and Satsuma mandarins (the extent of E.J.’s culinary skill set).

E.J. lives in rural Oregon, enjoys visits from her wonderful adult children, and indulges in good books, red wine, and the occasional hyperbole.

Contact info:
Email: ejr@ejrussell.com
  

Review: The Story of Us by Barbara Elsborg

Two boys. One love. Ten summers.

Are you okay?

The first words Zed says to Caspian, and the first time someone has cared about the answer. On a hot summer’s day, the lives of two boys are changed forever. A rebel and a risk taker, Caspian doesn’t give a damn for the consequences. Studious and obedient, Zed is the good boy who is never good enough.

The two couldn’t be more different, but there’s one thing they share, a need to belong to someone who understands them, someone who cares. Their friendship goes deeper than either can possibly imagine. They’re young, in love, and planning their future when an act of betrayal tears them apart.

Fate deals its hand. Seasons pass. Zed’s words follow Caspian through pain, fear and into the darkest of places. Friendships can last a lifetime, even when the world conspires to crush them. But this is more than friendship. This is love and they’re not going to let it slip through their fingers.

Warning
The Story of Us is a tale of love and survival, and the triumph of good over evil against the odds. It's a new adult contemporary romance that deals with family and social issues. There is violence and cruelty to children but not sexual assault. The story has sexual situations, dark elements and suspense. The events and locations are a mixture of real and fictional. The characters are fictional.





DNF

If I could use one word to describe this book up until the point I read it, it would be ‘overkill.’

I’ve read many angst-filled books. The ones I have enjoyed the most, and the ones that have made their way on to my favourites shelf, have been those that flowed naturally.

It’s those ones that tugged at my heartstrings, and made me root for the MCs to get their happy ever after, making the heartbreak and pain worth it.

In ‘The Story of Us,’ one unrealistic scenario after another is thrown at Zed and Caspian. I found I didn’t care about whether the boys found their happy ending with each new dramatic turn.

I decided to call it quits when I rolled my eyes at what was supposed to be a pivotal moment between the MCs, in the midst of yet another crisis.

Also, an observation: there are quite a few Muslim secondary characters in this book, yet not a single one of them was redeemable. I’m a gay man with Muslim friends who grew up in Toronto, a city with a sizeable population of Muslims. My experiences just don’t mesh with the author’s portrayal, though perhaps her experiences have been different.

Again, I think it was a case of overkill.

I decided to put this book down because I just didn’t care enough about the MCs to look past the over-dramatization.

But I’m clearly in the minority, so I might be missing something. Your mileage may vary.


Release Blitz + Giveaway: There’s Something about Flying (There's Always Something #3) by Schuyler L'Roux


Author Schuyler L'Roux and IndiGo Marketing celebrate the release of There’s Something about Flying! Learn more today and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!




Title: There's Something about Flying
Series: There's Always Something. Book Three
Author: Schuyler L'Roux
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: January 7, 2019
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 13100
Genre: Contemporary, Contemporary, Second chance, HEA

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Synopsis

After walking away from Gerry, Thom is back home in Minnesota living his best life. He’s flying through the air, embracing the sexual power he reclaimed in a lonely dungeon with Gerry. Yet when Gerry arrives unannounced and full of inexplicable hope, Thom has another choice to make. Does he let Gerry go and finally close the book on their tryst? Or does Thom open up his heart to the reality of their past and the potential of their future? The third and final chapter of the There’s Always Something trilogy stays true to form: there’s always an ending.

Excerpt

There’s Something about Flying
Schuyler L’Roux © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One: Falling
Thom gave a thumbs up and fell face first to earth.

His hands gripped his parachute harness as he tipped forward. He could feel his tandem partner behind him let go of the plane, because suddenly they went from the relative safety perched on the edge of the plane, as safe as you get 12,000 feet high, to emptiness.

The surge of adrenaline was pure ecstasy. At least, that’s what Thom told himself since there was nowhere to run and nothing to fight. All he could do was enjoy the coursing flood of hormones and blood as he ripped through the sky, succumbing to gravity.

Thom did remember what his instructor told him to do fifteen minutes ago when they were still earthbound. The tall, skinny, dark-skinned man was standing in front of him, the large parachute pack in between them.

“When we’re first out of the plane, I need you to arch your back and lean your head into my chest. You’re going to want to look down, but you need to resist that urge, OK?”

“Sure,” Thom said, ridiculously aware of the overlarge blue and orange wind suit he was wearing. “But if my head’s back, how will I see anything?”

The instructor smiled and slapped Thom lightly on his shoulder. “My man, when the parachute goes out, you’ll have all the time in the world to see what you’re going to see. But for free fall it’s all about feeling, not seeing. Now when we fall, are you into spinning or would you like me to keep it stable?”

“You mean, outside the falling?” The instructor, who looked far more attractive in his red, formfitting wind suit than Thom felt in his trash bag aesthetic, laughed and nodded. “I’m here to fall out of a plane,” Thom said. “Anything else you want to do, I’m game.”

“Good man.” He picked up the heavy pack, hefting it to one shoulder. “Then let’s get hooked up.”

“Careful what you promise,” Thom said with a smirk, at ease with his newfound ability to flirt.

“Oh, I know what I said,” the instructor said over his shoulder. “And call me Tay, all right?”

Thom arched his back and pressed his head into Tay’s collarbone as they dropped. The wind roared in Thom’s ears, filling his body with a pressure he’d only ever experienced on the inside, not out.

Even though the wind was deafening, Thom could still hear Tay’s loud voice telling him they were going to spin around before popping the parachute.

Thom didn’t have a chance to reply before Tay took them on a dance through the light-blue sky. Thom’s stomach did lurch, but that was the only moment of hesitation, and after it passed, there was a nothing but lightheaded giddiness. Thom flew past everything on the ground, however momentarily, and he rejoiced.

Tay tapped him on the shoulder. Thom struggled but finally saw Tay was trying to show him the red altimeter. The needle was dropping fast, steadily approaching the 2,500 feet mark, which was where Tay had said again and again they’d open up the parachute. Thom nodded as best he could, quickly trying to prepare for the sudden rush to be over.

He didn’t want it to end. Not after the summer he’d had—the strange amazingness and awfulness of Gerry. Thom wanted to be stuck in the clouds, falling and flying with nothing waiting for him and nothing to run from. It was a ridiculous wish, but it’s what he wanted. And Thom was trying to be OK with accepting what he wanted. Wanting Gerry. Not wanting him. Walking away. Forgetting Gerry.

Struggling to forget. If he’d been successful, Thom doubted he would’ve been hurtling through an almost empty sky right now, strapped in with a stranger. A handsome stranger with a beautiful smile but still a stranger.

Thom squeezed his shoulder harness hard, anticipating the sudden pull of his parachute. But he wasn’t ready for the jarring stop. His head snapped forward, wanting, Thom was sure, to fall off and continue the headlong drop toward earth. But his head stayed attached, and he remained tethered to Tay.

The parachute unfolded above them with a massive sound, like a giant shaking out the wrinkles of a flat sheet before making a bed. Once the chute opened, Thom’s free fall shifted effervescently out of control to a moderate forty miles per hour rush back to earth.

The wind still raged, but the inevitability of catastrophe was gone, and with it went Thom’s giddy peace. All of a sudden, the same problems and turbulence Thom thought he left back on the plane came back to him. It was disappointing, though at least he had found sixty seconds of peace in the free fall.

And then Tay tapped him on his shoulder. “Smile for the camera,” he shouted.

Thom looked to his left. He’d forgotten Tay was wearing a GoPro on his left hand. It snapped Thom out of his depressive reverie. He smiled and meant it. He wasn’t going to let what was waiting for him influence his experience of this magical thing.

This floating. This flying.

Thom let out a yell as he looked out onto the flat, patchwork earth beneath him. Rivers crisscrossed roads and farms and fields filled with either cars, buildings, or animals. He could see all of it, imagining all those lives and experiences carrying on beneath him. His imagination gave Thom a titanic feeling like he had old power in the seconds that were trickling out of his hands like the sands of time.

Thom whooped again, this time Tay joining him. The adrenaline, almost threatened by the dam of worry, was still there. But so was the joy. His voice was already hoarse after the two yells, so he gave away to grinning stupidly.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

A Southern boy deeply proud of his Welsh heritage, Schuyler L’Roux is a writer who passionately believes in the power of sex—funny, world-changing, scratch-the-hell-out-of-my-back sex. He’s a new author and cannot wait to join the world of erotica with his own brand of thoughtful characters engaged in meaningful interactions and entertaining situations. With lots and lots of sex, of course. When he’s not traveling, Schuyler currently calls Germany home.

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