Release Blitz + Giveaway: His Compass (His #2) by Con Riley


Author Con Riley and Signal Boost Promotions celebrate the release of His Compass (His #2)! Find out more about the contemporary romance and enter in the His Horizon (His #1) eBook giveaway!

 




Cover Design: Natasha Snow

Length: 85,000 words

His Contemporary MM Romance Series

Book #1 - His Horizon - Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link
Book #3 - His Haven - Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link (coming April 2021)

Blurb

Tom has one rule: don’t sleep with the crew. A second chance with a younger, gorgeous deckhand tempts him to break it.

After a busy season as a charter-hire skipper, Tom yearns for some downtime. His lonely heart also aches for adventure with someone special, but paying his bills has to come first. A surprise sailing contract and huge bonus offer his first glimpse of freedom for years. There’s only one catch: he must crew with Nick, a deckhand who jumped ship once already.

Nick’s as young and untested as the new yacht they’re contracted to sail, and he’s just as gorgeous. Forced to spend a month as Nick's captain, Tom discovers depths he hadn’t noticed. He’s captivated, and happier sailing with Nick than he’s been in forever. However, their voyage is finite, and both men keep soul-deep secrets.

As the contract draws to an end, they must get honest about what’s in their hearts if they want to share a life at sea, and love, forever.

***

Featuring an age gap that’s only a number, forced proximity that makes hiding attraction impossible, and a yacht that’s nothing but trouble, His Compass is the second novel in the His MM Contemporary Romance series from Con Riley.

♥ This shared-world series starts with His Horizon, but each book follows a different couple, and can be enjoyed as a standalone novel complete with a fulfilling happily ever after. ♥



CON RILEY lives on the wild and wonderful Welsh coast, with her head in the clouds and her feet in the ocean.

Injury curtailed her enjoyment of outdoor pursuits, so writing fiction now fills her free time. Love, loss, and redemption shape her romance stories, and her characters are flawed in ways that make them live and breathe.

When not people-watching or reading, she spends time staring at the sea from her kitchen window. If you see her, don’t disturb her — she’s probably thinking up new plots.

FACEBOOK GROUP: facebook.com/groups/458421868222590
TWITTER: twitter.com/con_riley
INSTA: instagram.com/con_riley
BOOKBUB: bookbub.com/authors/con-riley
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: amazon.com/Con-Riley/e/B00F8GT35O


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Audio Blog Tour + Giveaway: Peace Maker (Blackwood Pack #3) by Mary Rundle

Author Mary Rundle and Other Worlds Ink visit with today's blog tour stop for Nick J. Russo  narrated paranormal romance, Peace Maker (Blackwood Pack #3)! Discover more and enter in the giveaway to win a $20 Amazon gift card AND a Blackwood Brothers mug!


Peace Maker Audio - Mary Rundle

Mary Rundle has a new MM paranormal romance book out in audio, Blackwood Pack Book 3: "Peace Maker." And there's a giveaway.

The Blackwood Pack saga continues…

This is part of an on-going series by Amazon Bestselling Author, Mary Rundle, and catching up on previous titles is advised. Readers of the past books will enjoy meeting old friends once more as the pack does what it does best ̶ caring for one another and helping shifters everywhere.

Enforcer Dylon Royd worked for the notorious Silver Point Pack until they accused him of disloyalty. Imprisoned and beaten to within an inch of his life, he's dumped at the side of a road and left for dead. Waking up in the Blackwood Pack's hospital, he's shocked to discover his Fated Mate is one of the pack's members he'd been ordered to kill.

Cody is a seer and has grappled with visions all his life, but after most of his family is massacred they have intensified so fiercely he begins to make plans to escape his pain and suffering. Thinking no one wants a freak for a Fated Mate, he tries to reject Dylon until he realizes his salvation depends on accepting him.

A life or death situation for Cody, a rare gift to both from the Fates, a dangerous mission, and an unexpected surprise are some of the challenges they face. Together they begin a journey to save Cody's life while forging a partnership that requires absolute trust for both to survive.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon France | Amazon Germany


Giveaway

Mary is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card AND a Blackwood Brothers mug with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47166/?


Excerpt

Peace Maker meme - Mary Rundle

Dylon felt the buzzing and saw the flash of green light in his mind and, at first, worried his tormentors were back to beat him again—that was, until he could feel his bones snap into place and heal. It was amazing as he could see in his mind what was happening to him. He’d never felt anything like this before and wanted it to last for a long time. Finally, his pain was gone and his face felt normal. Then his wolf howled—a mating howl. Dylon was confused. He wasn’t mated so why was his wolf so happy?

He sniffed and what he smelled made his cock rise—moss, lichen, tundra soil, and blueberries. Sadness washed over him as he realized he was probably dead—killed by those bastards he used to work with, all because he was accused of a crime he didn’t commit. Now, he would never be able to clear his name—that and his concern for his parents had kept him from giving up long after lesser men would have. Suddenly, he realized his wolf was prancing, interspersed with mating howls. While trying to make sense of this, he heard a voice so deep and rich it curled around his spine and caressed all his nerve endings at the same time. My mate! I have a mate! But where am I?

Cody watched his mate’s face return to normal and gasped at how gorgeous he was—rich brown hair with golden highlights, strong forehead, straight nose, high cheekbones, square chin covered in a very short scruff—but his eyes quickly zeroed in to Dylon’s mouth. There, by gods, was a mouth made just for him, wide with a full, plump bottom lip, just begging for his cock. A low groan slipped from Cody’s mouth and his cock grew in length and hardness.

Keeping his eyes focused on his mate as Dylon returned to his former self, Cody could see why his mate became an enforcer—tall, broad shoulders and well-defined muscles all over his body. If the Fates wanted to send him someone who would be able to protect him, they couldn’t have made a better choice. But will he want me once he finds out what I am? Cody knew instantly he’d be heartbroken if his mate rejected him.

As he stood by the bedside, he realized his ability to complete his mission required Dylon by his side or else he would fail. And if that happened, he would not be able to live with himself—not that he was doing so well right now by staying alive. He was hanging on by a thread which was getting thinner by the day. It was taking everything out of him just to appear normal to his brothers. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sustain the illusion.

Dylon kept his eyes closed as he became aware of his surroundings. His wolf scented six wolves and a human, no, not a human but not a shifter either. He mentally took stock of his wolf and found him lying down, tongue lolling while panting and shit, smiling? Smiling at a room full of unknown wolves, two, no make that three, who were humongous. What the fuck? He trusted his wolf implicitly—except the last time he was called into Rudy’s office. No, that time he ignored his agitated wolf and walked into a nice, neat trap. Yeah, well that’s what I get for ignoring my wolf. Should I trust him now?

“Dylon, can you hear me? I’m Cody.”

Cody…he’s my mate. Oh wow, Mum and Dad are going to be so happy. I found my mate. Holy fuck! A mate! His voice!

“Let me,” Ian said to Cody when Dylon’s eyes remained closed. “Dylon, I’m Dr. Wallace. Can you open your eyes?”

Trust my wolf…trust my mate. Dylon opened his eyes and found himself staring into Cody’s beautiful brown eyes with rings of gold threaded through the irises. Long, lush, brown lashes framed those eyes, filled so completely with sadness that his wolf growled at their mate being unhappy. I’m right there with you my friend. Why is our mate so sad? Dylon’s eyes searched his mate’s face looking for the source of his melancholy, but found only a beautiful man with short, dark brown hair, well-defined cheekbones, and a clean-shaven face. A clear view of his mouth brought up fantasies of what he wanted to do with his mate’s luscious lips.

Someone moved, causing the air currents to swirl, bringing his mate’s scent to him fresh and strong. His wolf moaned, he moaned; together they sensed their other half. Dylon opened his mouth to speak, but his mate laid a finger on it, shushing him. He couldn’t resist and his tongue darted out to sneak a quick taste of the man who was making his cock so hard it was almost painful. As his tongue connected with his mate’s finger, he could wait no longer—a long, loud mating howl erupted from his wolf. Dylon wanted his mate now.

“Cody,” Jackson said, “Ian has to examine him to make sure everything has healed properly.”

Cody glanced at his brother and nodded, knowing what Jackson wanted him to do. “Dylon, honey, I’m Cody. You’ve been badly injured and the doc needs to make sure you’re completely healed. Will your wolf allow him to do that? I’ll be right here with you.”

Dylon gave a short nod as his hand sought to touch his mate’s.

Cody grasped it and smiled. “I promise, I’ll be right here.”

Ian quickly checked Dylon’s vitals and then laying his hands on his face, checked the healing of the bones. It was as if Dylon’s face never received the brutal beating. After finishing his examination, he said, “He’s as good as new and won’t suffer any long-term consequences from the beating.”


Author Bio

Mary Rundle Logo

The first book I ever wrote was Dire Warning in 2017 and, much to my delight, it became an Amazon Best-Seller. Readers loved it and I was on my way to chronicling the Blackwood Pack, seven brothers who are gay wolf shifters in search of their fated mates—stories about love at first sight with twists and turns, angst and humor, romance and adventure and, of course, happy endings.

As my books began to be translated into other languages, I also became an Amazon International Best-Selling author and then achieved the honor of becoming an Amazon All Star writer due to their popularity. My ninth book, Mystic Guardian, has just been published and audible versions of the entire series are in progress.

I love the M/M paranormal genre because it gives my imagination a lot of territory in which to roam. My mind can really run wild and come up with some amazing stuff when it doesn’t have to stay inside the box.

My readers tell me they feel like they’re members of the pack as the stories unfold…as if they’re right there in the middle of the action. Others tell me it’s like watching a fast-paced movie. My writing style pulls no punches…readers love it and are always clamoring for the next book.

Stories come to me as if channeled by my characters, all of whom I love (except for a few villains). They are eager to recount their lives, loves and adventures and are not inhibited when it comes to revealing steamy, sexy details.

I currently live in the Northeast and love the beautiful change of seasons, my husband, and our quirky calico cat, though not necessarily in that order. I’m always happy to hear from my readers and can be reached through Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, MeWe, email, or my website.

Author Website: http://www.maryrundle.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/maryrundle69

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

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/MaryRundle69

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/maryrundle69

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14246427.Mary_Rundle

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/mary-rundle/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Rundle/e/B0763CDQQ6/

Other Worlds Ink logo

Release Blitz + Giveaway: The World According To Liam (According To Liam #3) by V.L. Locey

Author V.L. Locey and Signal Boost Promotions host today's release blitz for The World According To Liam (According To Liam #3)! Read more about the latest in the series and enter in the eBook giveaway for a copy of The World According To Liam (According To Liam #3)!

 




Cover Design: Meredith Russell

Length: 51,662 words 

According to Liam Series

Book #1 - Life According To Liam - Buy Links
Book #2 - Christmas According To Liam - Buy Links
Book #3 - Love According To Liam - Buy Links

Blurb

When you see the world through the eyes of a child, there’s magic everywhere.

And crumbs. Lots of crumbs…

But that’s not going to stop Mike and Bryn Kneller from traveling with their nephew Liam at their side. Not that deciding to take the lad to visit Bryn’s homeland was an easy decision for the two recently wedded men despite how much they adore the boy. This trip was supposed to be a romantic anniversary trip after all.

However, life, as it does, tends to lead us down a path of its own choosing. Combining an unexpected announcement from a family member with the not-so-subtle pleadings of Bryn’s parents, the decision was made. With lots of hand sanitizer and a heaping helping of patience, the journey begins, leading Bryn and Mike to discover a great deal about themselves, their marriage, and their plans for the future.


USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.



a Rafflecopter giveaway

Cover Reveal: Spellbound Dreams (D’Vaire #21) by Jessamyn Kingley

 Author Jessamyn Kingley and Gay Book Promotions reveal the new cover for upcoming fantasy romance, Spellbound Dreams (D’Vaire #21)! Find out more today!

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Spellbound Dreams (D’Vaire, Book 21)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: January 28, 2021

Genre: MM Fantasy

Trope: Fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating:  3 flames 

Length:  82 139 words

 

Lured into a magical sleep, they must untangle the surrounding chaos to embrace a future together.

 Blurb

Grand Warlock Familiar Renny D’Vaire has a life he adores and is hoping for a mate who will not bring strife into his world. Renny, along with the rest of the D’Vaires, believes that his other half will be a dragon shifter, thanks to his magical beast form. Happy couples surround Renny, and he wants nothing more than to experience that joy for himself. However, Fate is full of surprises.

Protector Roriethiel of the Fae wakes up in an unfamiliar desert, uncertain how he arrived. His ample magic sapped, the rock he finds himself on is nothing like home. For weeks he stumbles along, searching for answers, and is unerringly led to the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. Rorie’s single purpose is to return to his castle, but instead he discovers his other half.

Renny is unsure how to handle the impetuous Rorie or the fairy’s desire to return to his realm. Torn between two worlds, Renny and Rorie find little common ground until they are lured into a magical dream. Chaos surrounds them as they unravel the mystery of what happened to Rorie, and although their attraction is intense and their feelings for each other grow swiftly, to succeed in love they must learn to trust that Fate has not led them astray.



Excerpt

The door behind Rorie opened, and his smile bloomed as the stunning warlock familiar he’d been blessed with ventured outside. They had tremendous issues, but Renny was so handsome and intelligent, Rorie could not be sad to know him.

“Are you overwhelmed?” Renny asked, his deep blue eyes full of concern.

“In the best way. Your family is large and beautiful. I always wished for such.”

“I hope you know that you’re a part of it now too.”

“I have felt such warmth from everyone. They strive not to make either myself or Drekkoril outsiders.” They stared at each other for several minutes, and neither of them could do anything about the weird distance that sat between them like a large boulder. Rorie wove a bit of magic between his hands and smiled as his vision was created. “I wanted to give you a wand for your collection.”

Renny lifted a hand, then pulled it back. “I’m almost afraid to touch it,” he whispered reverently. “You recreated Orlami and Zurenzi perfectly.”

“There is a surprise. Go on and place a finger upon Orlami’s or Zurenzi’s head.”

With a grin, Renny did as he was asked. His charming laugh filtered out as both dragons, wrapped sinuously around each other, opened their mouths to breathe fire. “You’ve outdone every other wand I own with this. Are you sure you want me to have it?”

“I have been thinking on it for days now to create one that was worthy of the collection already in your room. If you do not take it, I will shatter it,” Rorie answered with a shrug, holding it out. The wand had no value to Rorie without Renny accepting it.

“Okay, don’t do that,” Renny begged, taking the object from Rorie’s grasp. “I can’t believe how incredible this is, thank you. Why did you make their fire pink and purple? I’ve only seen them use fire in oranges and yellows.”

“It reminded me of my homeland. The sky ranges between those two colors.”

“It must be beautiful.”

“It is.”

“I hope I’m able to visit someday,” Renny answered softly. “I should go put this inside. Are you coming back in? Noirin and Kendrick are putting together a crostini bar.”

“Give me another moment to enjoy the night air and yes, I will join you for whatever a crostini is.”

“There are going to be different wines, too. We’re even going to let the wolves and baby dragons have some.”

“The entire family will enjoy this?”

“Absolutely,” Renny said. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Yes, I promise not to dally.”

When Renny disappeared into the house, Rorie rubbed a finger across the stone on his hand and the two dragons emerged from the privacy of the now single tent that was their private home outside their lagoon. “How it makes my heart happy to watch you together,” he told Orlami and Zurenzi, meeting them halfway in the yard. Both Faedrekan licked his face, and Rorie delighted in their exuberance. Like him, they led with their emotions. “Friends, I need your help. I wish for a siramen v’airsell nioll but fear Renny and I will never arrive at such an auspicious day. He cannot understand my desire to return, and I fail to comprehend why I can remember nothing of how I came to be here.”



About the Author 

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

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


Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn's Ruffian's

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook |   Twitter  |   Pinterest  |  Facebook Group

 

 

   

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Luka by Dianne Hartsock

Author Dianne Hartsock and IndiGo Marketing host today's release blitz for Luka from NineStar Press! Read more about the paranormal romance and enter in the $10 NSP credit giveaway!


Title: Luka

Author: Dianne Hartsock

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/11/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 72200

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, age gap, witches, sorcerers, fae, magic, second chances

Add to Goodreads

Description

Luka makes a desperate wish and the earth shifts to his will. Regretting it immediately, he tries to undue the sorcery, but it is too late. He asked for hope, and to his horror, all the hope in the world is given into his keeping. He desires nothing more than to return this gift to the world.

Aethan wants to get his hands on the Well of Hope in Luka’s keeping. If he can ransom out hope to others at his whim, the world will be at his feet. Where it belongs.

With the aid of his lover, Rhys, Luka stays one step ahead of Aethan. But Rhys has his own enemy in Aethan, his estranged father.

Rescued by Luka, his sweet, gentle witch, Rhys now stands with him against Aethan. They have vowed to return the Well of Hope to the earth despite all odds, or die trying. For what is life worth, for anyone, without hope?

Excerpt

Luka
Dianne Hartsock © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Luka settled cross-legged on the hearth with a murmured word of gratitude to the fire as its warmth surrounded him. Keeping a veiled eye on the woodpile, he crumbled a crust of bread and honey onto the stones. The animals had grown skittish of late, and he missed their company on his long tramps through the forest. The cabin had grown lonely without Rhys’s vibrant presence.

The thoughts of his lover sent his gaze to the small stack of books he kept close at hand to leaf through during the long empty nights. He’d rescued the young man from a brutish existence at the hands of a madman, and the stories were all that would ease his frantic, tortured mind. Rhys would sit close to Luka while Luka read the heroic tales until his head would nod, and he’d slump into Luka’s arms, a warm, living presence in his solitary life.

Luka raised his head, attentive. Winter gathered outside the latched door, wind howling through the trees, sending their limbs scratching along the roof. A shiver traveled up his spine. Something darker than the storm was coming.

The fire snapped in a shower of sparks, recalling his attention. He drew a small bundle of twigs from a pocket, cupped it in his worn, nut-brown hands, and breathed in the scent of juniper and sage. Chanting the words his mother had taught him long ago, he tossed the clump into the flames. A tendril of smoke rose, twirled in lazy circles in the air and brushed against his face.

He breathed deeply, holding in his lungs the heady smoke of the sage and grasses he’d gathered by the stream last autumn. His thoughts cleared. He saw everything! Snow whipped through the darkness between the trees, carried on the fierce wind. His beloved animals huddled in the scrub brush for safety and warmth. The village beyond the forest barred its doors, fires lit, safe inside while the storm raged.

His thoughts soared, bursting into the moonlit landscape above the clouds. Laughing aloud, his spirit flew in wonder, heart aching at the beauty of the night. But something tugged at his heart, his name shouted on the wind. He blinked at tears, bringing the fire back into focus, the cabin solid around him. Night pressed on the shuttered windows. Something was in the night…

Luka’s heart leaped. He comes! A soft cry of joy escaped him, and he rose in one fluid motion to his feet. He’d sent Rhys away to find love elsewhere than in the arms of a lonely witch, and yet he came, daring the storm.

“Come to me,” he urged the solitary figure in his mind’s eye, struggling up the path to reach him. A tremor seized him. Long years of bartering his herbs and potions to the villagers had passed while he waited with hope and dread for Rhys’s return, darkness at his heels.

He crossed the wooden floor of the cabin, logs he’d hewn and planed himself, lighting the candles with a word as he passed, filling the room with light. Luka paused at the door, hand hesitant on the latch. He had enemies beyond this safe threshold. What if Rhys had gone to them in his bitterness and returned now for revenge? Luka closed his eyes, seeing again the pain on Rhys’s youthful face, the confusion in his eyes when Luka told him to go, and closed the door on his anguished pleas.

A rap on the door sent his pulse racing. Love and doubt warred inside him, but he had to know, see the truth of it. He opened the door a crack; icy wind whistled in. A figure stood on his step, the heavy cloak clutched against the cold obscuring his features. Who was this? He swung the door wider. The energy was all wrong. But Luka would welcome him in whatever guise he wore.

He opened his hungry arms, but Rhys shook his head and looked up, candlelight spilling on his pale face, grown older. “You sent me away—brokenhearted.” Rhys’s voice was deeper than he remembered. “If I cross this threshold, I won’t leave again. Be very sure.”

Luka trembled, searching the beloved features, and mourned the sweet innocence that was missing. Snow sifted through the trees adding to the weight on Rhys’s shoulders, and Luka swallowed his doubts. “Come inside.” He tugged on Rhys’s sleeve, unable to mask his eagerness. His heart stumbled, then leaped, seeing a flash of elation in Rhys’s eyes.

Rhys stepped into the cottage in a flurry of cold air and snow, and Luka hastily closed and latched the door behind him. He turned, and his lips parted in a startled gasp. Rhys had removed his cloak, snow already melting on the warm floor. His golden hair fell loosely to his shoulders, and his body filled out the tunic and trousers he wore in a way it hadn’t five years ago. He had grown into a handsome man, the fine wool of his clothing attesting he’d done well in the village.

Suddenly conscious of his frayed sleeves and ink-stained fingers, the silver now threading his dark braid of hair, Luka glanced away. His gaze fell on the books and parchment littering every surface, candle wax spilled on the tabletops. A thick layer of dust covered the bookshelves, except for the volumes he used for reference. He chewed a lip, troubled.

“Come to the fire,” he offered, taking Rhys’s cloak to hang on a peg. “There’s a stew simmering on the hearth.”

Rhys touched his shoulder, halting him. “A moment. I’ve come to warn you. Your old enemy—”

“Is coming. This I know. We’ll talk of it later. Please, come to the fire. You must be cold.”

“Luka.”

Luka swiveled sharply at the command in Rhys’s voice, a thrill rushing through him. So much courage from his once timid lover. Was this the same man he’d rescued? The young lad of seventeen years, chained and beaten in a dank cellar? Rhys wouldn’t speak of his parents back then, saying only he’d lived on the charity of others—until he’d been snared, captive to a cruel man’s dark appetites.

Rhys’s soul had cried out in anguish from his prison, finding Luka’s heart, drawing him deep into the forest to the monster’s isolated hut. Luka had eluded the dark sorcerer, freeing the lad and taking him into his home. And later, into his bed, a moth to Rhys’s bright flame, his heart opened for the first time in uncounted years to love and promise.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Dianne is the author of paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, m/m romance, the occasional thriller, and anything else that comes to mind. She lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. She says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee warming her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway 

  Blog Button 2

Guest Review: The Beginning (Starting Over #5) by Matthew J. Metzger

Is this the end of the road, or the start of a whole new journey?

Aled’s had enough. His family is hundreds of miles away from him, his job is pointless and the feeling that he’s missing out on his own life has grown too big. But how can he call time on Yorkshire when it’s the place that Gabriel calls home?

Chris doesn’t know what to do. Inheriting property in the childhood village where he felt such a freak growing up wasn’t what he wanted, and he didn’t expect to miss Aled and Gabriel as much as he has since returning to Somerset. He’s out of place yet again, but doesn’t know where to call home.

When Aled is offered a job in Cornwall, Gabriel senses an opportunity to fix Aled’s misery, shed Chris’ unhappy history and bring their entire relationship under one roof. It will be the biggest gamble Gabriel’s ever taken on them…but this time, it doesn’t feel like taking a risk.

They’re starting over at the beginning, and there’s nothing left to fear.

Reader advisory: This book contains expressions of homophobia and transphobia from multiple characters. There are scenes of rough sex, BDSM and RACK.


Reviewer: Shee Reader

This is the fifth book in the series. I have read the others, but reckon a reader would be able to enjoy this as a stand alone. The story follows a polyamorous group of guys in a complex and loving relationship. Everyone has their own needs and although Gabriel’s needs don’t resonate with me personally, I could see how his various relationships met all of his needs.

Aled is growing increasingly unhappy in his work life, but he really needs Gabriel. Could Gabriel ever consider a move across the country even if it means one of his partners would be closer, as he simultaneously leaves another further behind?

Chris isn’t sure what to do. He misses Gabriel and Aled, and has never been happy here, but he is alone with his inherited house.

It’s such a complicated scenario for a book, but is the perfect culmination to this series. We see our guys make a BIG change in their quest for happiness and balance, and fortunately this is a romance with a solid gold HEA with all the quirks!

Oh my goodness I loved this book! It is raw, somewhat gritty and a lot is outside my experience, but the writing is stellar. The characters are well formed and three dimensional, the relationships are so real I felt like they were real-life friends of mine. The pursuit of happiness in a form that is not the societal norm can be so very hard. This book is a high quality Own Voices tale by one of my favourite authors. The Trans, Poly and Ace rep are real and beautiful. This is another triumph by Matthew. I can not recommend it enough.

I received a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.


Release Blitz + Giveaway: Lighter by A. Aduma

Welcome new author A. Aduma and IndiGo Marketing as they celebrate the release of debut YA novel, Lighter! Read more about the tale and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!


Title: Lighter

Author: A. Aduma

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/11/2021

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 55300

Genre: Contemporary YA, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, YA, gay, bisexual, Kenyan expats living in the States, East African culture, Swahili, teen pining and angst, unrequited feelings, family drama, drug use

Add to Goodreads

Description

After a bad breakup, Rasheed is determined to spend his last year of high school focused on his course work and to finish it with as little drama as possible. But when disaster strikes and his grandma ends up in the hospital, the threads holding his life together start to slowly unravel. Now, Rasheed has to deal with the return of his absent mother and sharing a home with her despite their strained relationship.

With old hurts surfacing and family dynamics shifting, Rasheed finds comfort and humor from his best friends, the Herman twins he’s tutoring, and his crush, Adam Herman, who’s not as unavailable as Rasheed had once thought. With more time spent together, Rasheed finds his feelings for Adam may never have gone away. And the feelings may not be as one-sided. Except, Rasheed has to confront old mistakes and come to terms with his own issues first, and a relationship may just complicate everything.

Excerpt

Lighter
A. Aduma © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
“Please tell me it’s mahamri,” I said enthusiastically when I saw Granma kneading dough that would hopefully be rolled, cut into little squares, dipped into deep frying oil, and covered in whipped cream to create a slice of heaven. Paired with hot chai, it opened the door to another dimension.

Granma pounded the dough, one-two, and flipped it over. “It is.”

“Should I start on the tea?”

“You should start by taking the trash out.” She straightened, wiped the thin film of sweat from her forehead, and pointed to the overflowing trashcan. I could have emptied it last night, but I had an assignment due and each second counted; the four minutes it would have taken had seemed like a lifetime.

“Okay.” I stepped farther into the kitchen and pinched some of the dough. Granma smacked my hand with her flour-covered one. I should have seen it coming; it was a dance we’d been doing since I was five­­—I’d pinch the dough, she’d slap my hand, and warn me about worms making my stomach swell.

Sure enough she said, “Tumbo lako litafura.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes. The way she used to tell it, when I was a kid my stomach would get as large as a balloon before it burst, spraying worms everywhere.

I tossed the dough in my mouth, grabbed a pot, filled it with water, and put it to boil for tea. One thing Granma and I liked was tea—tea in the morning, tea in the afternoon, tea before bed—and coming to America hadn’t changed that. As soon as she was done with the mahamri, she’d set herself up on her favorite floral armchair in front of the TV with her cup of steaming hot tea and catch up on some daytime soaps. Sometimes I joined her—TV dramas had some really cute guys.

“They finally gave up the dog,” Granma announced.

“Huh?”

“Mrs. Kyle and that dog. The pepo chafu will not be terrorizing us again.”

Mrs. Kyle lived on the other side of the street, one house down from us. Her bulldog, Teddy—a name that maybe shouldn’t be handed out so easily to slobbering dogs—had the bad habit of chasing and attacking people, and she refused to put it on a leash. Granma did not like her. The whole neighborhood didn’t like her.

“Paul was right,” she continued, “Soon as someone threw in the word ‘sue,’ she became more accommodating.”

There’d been a lot of that lately—Paul this and Paul that. It would have slipped my mind if I hadn’t noticed her FaceTiming him two weeks before, and then a day ago. Paul only lived a fifteen-minute drive away, so why not text? Anyway, what was so important that she needed to video call?

“I’m guessing some are for Paul?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice.”

She pulled a drawer open and retrieved a rolling pin. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“How am I saying it?”

“Like you mean to say something else.”

“It’s nothing— Okay, you and Paul are…friendly,” I teased.

“I don’t have many friends; another one never hurts.”

“True, but I don’t know many people who go around fixing other people’s houses out of the kindness of their heart.”

Granma fixed her eyes on the dough and started to roll it. “It’s called kindness. Looks like you’ve forgotten the meaning of the word.”

“I remember,” I said quickly before it turned into a speech about undugu. Yes, yes, love thy neighbor, unless it was Mrs. Kyle, of course. Lines had to be drawn somewhere.

I added a cinnamon stick and some ginger into the pot and turned to head back to my room. Granma pointed to the trashcan. “Usitume nikwambie mara ya pili.”

Right, the trash. I sighed.

Her eyes bored into me as I bent to pick it up, which usually made me more self-aware. Like, had I brushed my teeth or cleaned my room? “I don’t know where your mind is nowadays.”

I paused. “Just tired.” Second week of school, Granma!

I was still trying to shake off summer vibes and find my back-to-school rhythm. It wasn’t going great. On top of the mound of piling homework and the early waking hours that turned me into a zombie—sometimes even with growling, and on really bad days, I could bite someone’s head off—I was trying to dodge Scott, my ex-boyfriend. Whenever he weaved his way into my thoughts, my chest would burn with shame, and my body would turn into a bundle of nerves. That chai and mahamri better come quick. I needed a pick-me-up.

“You put your shirt on backward on Tuesday and didn’t notice.”

“My mind was elsewhere.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you’re not on drugs?”

I refrained from sighing. “No, I am not on drugs.”

“What is it, then?”

“Not enough sleep.”

“Why? What do you have to stress about?”

I slumped. Things were off, and I couldn’t shake the oddness. Before I could get that out, Granma shuddered, exhaled loudly, and reached for the counter, clutching it tightly.

I moved toward her. “You okay?” But she waved me off.

Her mouth opened, closed, opened again, but nothing came out. I frowned in confusion. Finally, after a few seconds, she said, “Trash.”

“Okay, okay.”

“And check for your keys.”

“Ha ha.” Again, I was tired that day.

I shifted my eyes to her hands, still gripping the counter and repeated, “You okay?”

“I…haven’t pounded dough in forever.”

Her words were labored and breathy. She had been pounding away like an MFA fighter. Maybe that was it. Now I knew what I’d get her for Christmas—a stand mixer. Maybe that would encourage her to make mahamri more often and not break a sweat while doing it. I could do it, but I’d never gotten them right—soft and sweet but with a tinge of lemon and overwhelming taste of coconut. Mine usually came out too hard.

I lifted the bag and headed outside.

“And water my herbs for me.”

I huffed. I ought to have known going to the kitchen when Granma was there meant a one hundred percent chance I’d come out with a chore.

“Am I hearing you grumble?”

“No.”

“Good because that would be disrespectful to your elders.”

I held back the eye roll and made my way to the garbage bins. I dumped the trash and went to water her plants.

Granma had raised-bed planters for her herbs that Paul had made for her. The day he did it, Granma had prioritized keeping him company to watching her TV dramas even though she was religious about not missing episodes. Then there was that time Natalie had been over for their book club—they were the only two in the club, and they read one book a year, spent five minutes talking about how they didn’t get a chance to read it, and gossiped the rest of the time—and I overhead Granma describe Paul as a fine, fine man. Sure, there had been some wine involved, but still.

I winced when the scent of mint made me think of Scott. He loved mint-flavored ice cream and chewing mint-flavored bubblegum. I’d made it another week successfully avoiding him—thank you crowded hallways and different schedules. It was exhausting. I was constantly in flight mode. There had to be another way.

Apologize, a voice echoed in my mind. Apologize? As in, like, say sorry and stuff? Hmm.

Not that I hadn’t thought of it before, but how did people do that? The idea sounded foreign. Save for when I stepped on someone’s foot or bumped into them by accident; that was easy because they were accidents. Honest mistakes. What I had done had not been an honest mistake. So how did someone apologize for dumbness?

It was easier to stay clear of him, avoid any more drama, and focus on school.

If I ignored it maybe it would have no option but to magically—

“Eedy!” I paused, spooked by how she sounded—like a rusted engine trying and failing to come to life. As I put the watering can down, there was the sound of a body hitting the floor with a soft thud.

My heart leaped into my throat, and my stomach twisted with dread.

I rushed back to the house and found Granma lying on the floor—flat on her stomach and still as a rock. The world tilted and blurred together.

“Granma?” I said in a shaky whisper. I fell to my knees and with weak arms managed to turn her over. My breath caught at the sight of her. Her dark eyes were wide open, unfocused, and unblinking. A chill snaked down my back. I leaned down and felt her warm breath on my face. Oh, thank fuck.

I grabbed her hand and recoiled at its limpness. “Granma, are you okay?” Of course, she wasn’t okay.

She groaned.

“Tafadhali amka!” Please get up. I tried to pull her up and failed. Granma wasn’t small, and despite my size, I couldn’t get her to move. My pulse started to race and a heavy weight pressed down on my chest; breathing became difficult. I gasped for breath.

No. No. It would be alright.

“Musa?” she whispered roughly.

The hope I’d been holding on to sank somewhere to my toes. “No, Rasheed. Eedy.”

Musa was my babu’s name—my grandfather—a man we’d silently agreed to never speak of, ever. To Granma, saying his name was equal to calling on the devil, which wasn’t that far off from the truth.

I needed to call for help. She lay on the floor, immobile, her empty stare on me. I did not want to leave her. My eyes blurred. I stood on shaky feet and rushed to get my phone still buried under books from last night’s homework rush. My palms were sweaty enough it took a few swipes before I hit dial on the emergency contact. The person on the other end promised the ambulance would be coming soon.

I returned to crouch next to Granma and took her hand. She slurred something unintelligible that I failed to understand. “They’re coming.” I squeezed her hand.

She grumbled. It sounded like a mangled animal. I blinked to keep the tears from falling, but that only made them fall harder.

“Itsfine,” she slurred. Her hand twitched in mine.

It didn’t seem fine.

Last time she had ended up in hospital, it hadn’t been fine. Three weeks after I turned eight, and the world had turned upside down. I fought off the gnawing helplessness and tried to cling to positive thoughts. It would be alright.

Granma would be alright.

She didn’t really have a choice. She had her dramas waiting for her, Christmas was a few months away—Granma loved Christmas, all those sales and store decorations hyped her up—and I was going to graduate from high school.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Aduma is an economics major at the University of Nairobi in Kenya, and the type of person who feels incomplete without a book in hand. When not reading or writing, Aduma can be found lost in spreadsheets and graphs with music for company. Follow A. on Twitter.

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

  Blog Button 2

Release Blitz + Giveaway: The First Boy I Ever Kissed by Suki Fleet

 Author Suki Fleet and Gay Book Promotions visit in celebrate of new release, The First Boy I Ever Kissed! Read more about the new adult romance and enter in the giveaway to win your own eBook copy from the author's back list!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The First Boy I Ever Kissed

Author: Suki Fleet

Publisher: Stars and Ink Press

Cover Artist: Suki Fleet

Release Date: January 11, 2021

Genre: Contemporary New Adult M/M 

Trope/s: . Second Chances, Friends to Lovers, I have always loved you

Themes: Second chances, Bi awakening

Heat Rating: 3-4 flames (not frequent but detailed)

Length: 35 000  words

It is a standalone story.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  

 

Kim was the first boy Tommy ever kissed. The only person he’s been in love with.

But Kim broke Tommy’s heart when he left without a word. Can Tommy give him a second chance?

 
Blurb


It’s been over two years since Tommy’s heart was broken. Two years since Kim vanished from his life without a word.

Kim was the first boy he’d ever kissed. The only person he’s been in love with. He’d thought they were starting something when he showed his feelings on prom night, and they shared their perfect messy kiss, but he’d been wrong. He never saw Kim again. Until tonight when joy riders crash into the warehouse complex where he works.

Kim’s life is a mess. For two years he’s been involved with a criminal gang, trying to protect his mum from harm. He knows he has nothing to offer. But seeing Tommy again gives him the strength to try. If only Tommy wasn’t leaving the day after tomorrow to go travelling around the world. If only tonight wasn’t all they had.



Excerpt

It’s almost Christmas Day—surely, he’s got somewhere else to be, other people to be with? People far more important to him than me. I think again of the girl with the green braids. The sharp-eyed way she watched him as he gave a false name to the police. Wherever his life is at, ramming a four-by-four into a warehouse complex and then being arrested has got to build up some serious tension. Maybe he needs to let off a bit of steam too. Maybe that’s what this is.

I take my time cycling down the rough track to the park. I’ve popped a tyre before on the glass that’s scattered around here, and my fingers are too frozen to be fiddling around with fixing on a spare.

As soon as we make it into the skatepark’s tiny car park, Kim hops off the bike. I find myself still wanting to feel his arms around me. The ache of it. Like the past has a weight, a texture, and it’s all him.

God, what am I doing? This is such a bad idea. Spending time with him is just going to hurt, I know it is, and here I am just about offering myself up to it like a masochist.

He scrambles to the top of the little grassy hill surrounding the park. “God, I’ve missed this place.”

The wistfulness in his voice surprises me. I follow him up with my bike. He turns to me, pulls off my massive gloves, hands them to me in my helmet, then holds his arms out, races down to the centre of the second biggest ramp, and starts spinning. Spinning and spinning, his head flung back, hair flying. He looks seventeen again. Young. Wild. Free.

For a moment whatever shadows are haunting him are chased far away. And my heart aches and aches.

I remember the first time I saw him, swinging on the metal railing by the coffee shack near the smaller ramps with a couple of girls from school. He was laughing, head thrown back like it is now, pink hair falling away from his narrow face, sharp white teeth flashing, the whole of him vibrating with some wild aliveness I’d never seen in anyone else. Still haven’t. Too involved in watching him, I forgot what I was doing and nearly killed myself, lost control of my bike in the middle of a turn and crashed face first into the ramp. Later, I told myself I’d been so transfixed because I didn’t know whether he was a boy or a girl. But, of course, it wasn’t true. It took a long time for me to realise that though.

That was the summer I finished my GCSEs. I was fifteen. Kim was new. He’d moved from another school across town. I never asked him why.

Back then the skatepark was full from sunrise till late into the night, and Kim hung around almost as often as I did. He made friends quickly, and though I watched him all the time and caught him watching me, I remained clueless. Maybe if I’d have worked out sooner that I was bi, things would’ve been different. I don’t know.

Leaving Kim spinning, I clip my helmet in place, toss my gloves next to my backpack on the frozen ground, and take off down the biggest ramp, doing a few sharp turns at the top to warm up.

“I used to love watching you,” he yells. “You ride like the water flowing in a river.”

It’s ridiculous how buoyed up his words make me feel, and I flush. I’m too old to be showing off at the skatepark, trying to impress some boy I know is watching every jump I make, and still I do it, taking my bike through a few 360 tailwhips. Making it look casual, easy, though it’s not, but that’s the trick. Isn’t that always the trick?

Limbs vibrating with adrenaline, I skid to a stop in front of him. “Get on.”

Kim’s eyes widen. “You’re going to kill us if you jump with me on your bike.” But still he gets on.

I laugh. “Still up for anything, eh?”

“With you, yeah.” His arms fasten around me, and he plasters himself close. “I’ve missed you, you know?”

Has he? I stiffen a little. I can’t let myself believe him, not just like that, because, no, I don’t know. But I don’t say that. I don’t say anything. My feelings are too jumbled to work out how to respond. Instead I focus on the things I do know and take us swooping down the big ramp and up the other side. I’m not about to do any tricks with Kim on my bike. He’s right, it’d probably kill us, plus I only have the one helmet. But it’s just nice riding around with him like this, even though I’m not sure how I feel right now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers after a while, his arms squeezing me a little tighter like he’s afraid I’m suddenly going to stop and shove him off. “I’m really fucking sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I say quietly. Of course I don’t. How could I ever hate him? I kind of suspect in forty years’ time, if I’m still around, I’ll still get this sharp pain in my chest when I think about him.



About the Author 

Suki Fleet is an award-winning author, a prolific reader (though less prolific than they'd like), and a lover of angst, romance and unexpected love stories.

They write lyrical stories about memorable characters and believe everyone should have a chance at a happy ending.
Their first novel This is Not a Love Story won Best Gay Debut in the 2014 Rainbow Awards, and was a finalist in the 2015 Lambda Awards. Their novel Foxes won Best Gay Young Adult in the 2016 Rainbow Awards. 

  

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter @SukiFleet

  Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up

 

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

one of five ebook copies from the author's backlist.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Teddy's Truth (Out in Austin #1) by KD Ellis

Author KD Ellis and Pride Publishing host today's release blitz for Teddy's Truth (Out in Austin #1)! Read more about the first installment from the new series and enter in the giveaway to win a fabulous Goody Bag and a $5.00 First For Romance Gift Code!

 

Teddy's Truth by KD Ellis

General Release Date: 12th January 2021

Word Count: 92,509
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 357
Genres: ACTION AND ADVENTURE, CONTEMPORARY, CRIME, EROTIC ROMANCE, GAY, GLBTQI, MEN IN UNIFORM, THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE, TRANSGENDER

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

 

Teddy De Luca thought being born into the wrong body was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Then he met Julian…

All Teddy De Luca wants is for his outside to match his inside—so badly that he takes a loan from a Mexican cartel. It’s not like he can borrow the money from his alcoholic mother. She got him into this mess in the first place when she poured his savings into bottles of Jack. He figures he’ll get his operation, pick up a second job, then pay the debt off quickly and put it all behind him. When the cartel raises the stakes, his plan falls apart and he’s left with a mounting debt and no way out.

Ian Romero is a second generation Hispanic-American whose only goal is to live the American dream—finish college, find the perfect partner and settle down. His inappropriate crush on his brother’s best friend isn’t going to stop him. But when his troubled brother becomes another victim of the local cartel, his plans change. He can’t save his brother, but he can get his revenge.

After years apart, Teddy’s and Ian’s paths cross again, neither expecting the passion between them to re-ignite even hotter than before. Can Ian forgive Teddy’s role in his brother’s death to become the Daddy the younger man needs—or is their relationship destined to fail again?Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, rape, and a live burial. There are BDSM elements including Daddy kink and mild power play. There are scenes of loan-sharking, blackmail, torture, public sex, parental neglect and domestic violence.

Excerpt

Teddy tugged at the hem of his overlarge sweatshirt then discreetly scratched beneath the band of his sticky sports bra. As far as he was concerned, breasts were disgusting lumps of fat that hoarded sweat, bounced like painful beanbags on his chest when he was busy catching a football and strained the front of any button-down he tried to wear. He couldn’t understand why boys were so obsessed with them. He personally couldn’t wait to get the damn things cut off.

Hormone therapy had deepened his voice and given him a shadow of patchy fuzz on his jaw. Clippers had sheared him of his blond hair and his mother’s Italian heritage had blessed him with broad shoulders and narrow hips.

It was unfortunate that it had also cursed him with breasts that not even puberty blockers had been able to thwart.

He wished he could blame her awful time-management skills on their heritage as well, but he knew better. The fault lay with either Jack or John—the bottle or the boyfriend, whichever she was currently in bed with.

He’d been sitting on the hard, concrete steps of the high school for almost an hour. It wasn’t like he could call her. His cell was out of minutes, and hers was probably dead on the nightstand.

Just as the final school bus trundled back onto the parking lot and Teddy was about to give up on waiting, someone stepped up beside him, casting him in shadow.

“Stay there,” Teddy ordered, craning his head back until he could grin at his best friend. “Perfect. Be my sun block.”

Shiloh, still in his leotard, laughed and nudged Teddy’s hip with his shoe. “If you don’t think I shine brighter than the sun, then clearly I’m not wearing enough glitter.”

“Shine as bright as you want, but just keep standing there. Fuck, it’s hot!” Teddy gripped his collar and tugged at it repeatedly, trying to stir a breeze. All it ended up doing was wafting the stench of boob sweat up into his face.

“Well, duh, it’s ninety degrees—and you’re in a sweater.” Shiloh rolled his eyes and dropped onto the curb beside him. “And it’s not even pink.”

Teddy opened his mouth, his usual response dancing on his tongue—that boys don’t wear pink—but he swallowed it. Shiloh was currently in a hot pink leotard and pink Chucks.

Instead, Teddy shrugged and glared down at his baggy jeans and boring blue sweater. “You know why.” It was hard enough getting people to call him Teddy instead of Thea. Or, worse, Theodora.

“I’m going to make you a shirt. It’s going to be pink and fabulous. It’s going to say, ‘Call Me Teddy’. And it’s going to be in glitter.” Shiloh threw an imaginary handful into the air, then fell back to lie on the sidewalk, his arms flung out.

“With your handwriting, they’d probably think you wrote ‘Daddy’.” Teddy dropped back to use Shiloh’s arm as a pillow.

Shiloh shifted but didn’t pull away. He just rolled onto his side, his blond hair flopping into his eyes. He left his arm beneath Teddy’s head, bringing their faces close enough that their noses nearly touched. “It’s not that bad. Besides, you’re clearly not a Daddy.”

Teddy rolled his eyes. Ever since he’d borrowed Shiloh’s laptop to finish up his college application essays—and forgotten to clear his search history after falling down the rabbit hole of kinky porn—Shiloh’s teasing had been less than subtle. Teddy refused to be embarrassed, though, especially since the only reason he’d stumbled onto that website in the first place was because Shiloh had left three separate bookmarks for it.

It reinforced everything Teddy knew about their relationship. They were destined to be the bestest of friends—but nothing more. They were both too attracted to the same type of man—tall, dark and dangerous.

Still, knowing his friend was into the same kinks that he was didn’t mean they needed to talk about it. He ignored the leading comment and switched back to the far safer topic of handwriting. “Remember when Mr. Carmine thought you wrote an essay on Storage Wars?”

“Hey, Mr. Carmine also thought you wrote an essay about Quasimodo.”

“I did write him an essay about Quasimodo. Well, really about how the novel by Victor Hugo helped raise the money needed to restore the cathedral, and—” Teddy felt the beginnings of a spiel on gothic architecture creeping up.

Shiloh interrupted, “Yeah, buttresses…a rose window. I remember. I still think the gargoyles are creepy.”

“You said buttresses,” Teddy snickered, shoving Shiloh’s shoulder.

“Teddy, can I touch your buttress?”

“Your hand can stay far away from my buttress, fuck you very much.”

“It’s like a butt fortress. I just want to invade your buttress! Why are you so mean to me?” Shiloh rolled onto his back and kicked his feet against the sidewalk like an angry toddler, except for the smile on his face.

“No, it’s impregnable!” Teddy stuck out his tongue.

“Well, duh, you’re a boy. Of course you’re impregnable.”

“Something tells me you don’t know what that word means.”

Immediately, Shiloh rattled off the definition. “Impregnable. Unable to be captured or broken into. Also, unable to be defeated or destroyed. But you have to admit that it sounds an awful lot like it means you can’t make babies.”

“And thank God for that,” Teddy shivered at the thought of being responsible for a little, squalling, helpless baby. “I might miss wearing pink, but I won’t miss that.”

Teddy froze at the accidental admission. His therapist had told him that it was normal, that gender was a spectrum and that just because he still liked feminine things didn’t make his desire to transition less valid. Still, it was the first time he’d admitted it to anyone except his therapist.

Shiloh sat up slightly to face him better. “You can still wear pink. You can wear whatever the fuck you want.” Shiloh’s voice hardened. “And if anyone bothers you about it, I’ll cover their lockers in gay porn. Just say the word.”

“The poor football players won’t know what to do with themselves. Think of all the spontaneous erections.” The few he’d dated had been far more interested in his ass than a straight guy probably should be—not that he’d obliged, since he refused to be anyone’s dirty little secret.

Shiloh sighed. “It would be a beautiful gift to all of us.”

A black Mercedes pulled up to the curb, barely parking before the driver was leaning on the horn.

“Impatient bastard,” Shiloh grumbled. “I don’t know why he’s in a hurry. He gets paid by the hour.”

“Well, that stick is so far up his ass it has to be uncomfortable sitting down.” Teddy sat up and straightened his sweatshirt. The Becketts’ driver was a homophobic dick. He didn’t understand how the man hadn’t been fired yet.

Shiloh pushed himself to his feet. “I bet he has hemorrhoids. That’s probably where he rushes off to every night.”

“Ew. You picture him rubbing cream on his ass?” Teddy teased.

Shiloh gagged, shoving Teddy to the side. “Gross. You’re such a dick. I don’t know why I hang out with you.”

“Because you love me.”

The Mercedes blared its horn again, a demanding series of honks that only ended when Shiloh threw a hand up in acknowledgment. “I gotta go. Do you have a ride?”

Teddy shrugged. “Yeah. She must just be running late or something. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” He knew she wouldn’t be, but he’d rather walk than listen to the driver sling slurs. He didn’t understand how Shiloh dealt with it.

Shiloh hesitated on the bottom step, looking like he wanted to say something, but all he did was give a small nod and say, “Okay. See you Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

Buy Links

Choose Your Store First For Romance

About the Author

KD Ellis

KD Ellis is a professional cat wrangler by day, and an author by night. She moved from a small town to an even smaller village to live with her husband and wife and their two children. She loves reading—anything with men loving men. She writes queer romance in between working her two jobs and cuddling her pets—all six of them, which confuses the turtle.

Giveaway

Enter to win a fabulous Goody Bag and a $5.00 First For Romance Gift Code!

KD Ellis's Teddy's Truth

KD ELLIS IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN THIS FABULOUS GOODY BAG AND A $5.00 FIRST FOR ROMANCE GIFT CODE! Notice: This competition ends on 20th January 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

Book Blast: Fast, Free and Flying (County Durham Quad #6) by Jude Tresswell

Author Jude Tresswell and Gay Book Promotions host today's book blast for Fast, Free and Flying (County Durham Quad #6)! Read more about the mystery today!

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Fast, Free and Flying (County Durham Quad, #6)

Author: Jude Tresswell

Publisher: Self-published (KDP)

Release Date: December 9, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary gay mystery

Trope/s: Ace/non-ace relationships

Themes:  Compromise; guilt; revenge

Heat Rating:  1 flame

Length: 63 000 words

The mystery story stands alone. Helpful, but not essential, to have read a previous title due to character development.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 

Suspects of one crime. Victims of another.


Blurb

Drones lie at the heart of this mystery facing Mike, Ross, Raith and Phil, four men who live in North-East England.

A spate of art-related burglaries and a series of horrific kidnaps have occurred. The freedom of the quad, and that of Nick, their special friend, is threatened by involvement in both cases. They are suspected of one and Mike is a victim of the other. The officer in charge is the quad’s old enemy, the homophobic Chief Inspector Fortune. Should the quad set aside their distrust and tell him what they know?

Meanwhile, Nick has issues of his own to consider. Compromises are needed, but how many?

This is the sixth tale in the County Durham Quad series. Background is included to aid new readers.



Excerpt

From Chapter 1

(The whole chapter, read by the author with aerial footage of the setting, is available on YouTube. Link below)

A new sound had been added to the rustic ones that normally formed the backdrop to life in the Durham hills. Instead of the bleating of sheep, there was a whirring—and it came from the sky. The quad’s new video channel was up and running, and Raith, plus drone, was filming everything and everyone. He was, as he liked to put it, “Doing the rounds.”

“Doin’ my head in,” was how it seemed to Mike and, right then, there was a danger of that actually happening. Mike was responsible for nearly all the quad’s maintenance work. He was sitting astride a rooftop, replacing the flashing on one of Tunhead’s chimneys. Tunhead was the little hamlet where the quad lived. It was the seat of BOTWAC, the Beck On The Wear Arts Centre, and the video channel was designed, in part, to promote the artisans’ wares.

“Watch what you’re doin’ with that bloody thing!” Mike yelled from his perch.

“It’s alright, Mike. I’m in full control,” Raith yelled back.

“Not from where I am, you’re not! I thought you weren’t supposed to fly it over buildin’s!”

Raith made the drone whizz round in a circle and shouted, “Well Tunhead doesn’t really count as buildings, does it? I mean, twelve tiny houses, my studio and a disused church. It’s hardly buildings.”

“It felt like buildin’s when Ross and I were refurbishin’ it all, and it felt like buildin’s three years ago when I knocked the walls through to next door just to give you leg room.”

“That’s building, Mike, not buildings.”

Sometimes, there was no answer to Raith’s logic. Mike swore softly, sighed and decided to wait until tea-time, when all the men would be home together. They’d discuss Raith and his drone then. First things first. He continued repairing the chimney.

***

In Tees, Tyne and Wear Constabulary’s new Tyneside police station, another drone-related conversation had caused heated words that day. The woman making a complaint was angry.

“Look,” she said to the officer on the front counter, “this is the third time it’s happened in a fortnight. I ignored the first invasion of my privacy. The second time the bless├ęd thing was hovering overhead, I telephoned. I was told that someone would contact me. Nobody’s done so, and this morning it happened again. I want something doing. I feel I can’t go into my own garden and I’m bothered that whoever’s doing this is spying on me and my children. It’s horrible and it shouldn’t be allowed.”

The woman had good reason to feel harassed. She lived in what had once been the lodge of a large country estate. That is, she occupied the house that lay at one end of a long, tree-lined drive. The drive led, through parkland with trees and an ornamental lake, to a substantial eighteenth century property. On three occasions recently, the peace of the surroundings had been broken by the whirring of a drone. More importantly, she felt intimidated by the drone’s presence. As she said, she felt she was being spied on. Surely that was a crime?

It was, the official told her. At least two different offences connected with drone misuse might be invoked on the woman’s behalf, but, in a case like hers, invoking them was problematic. Even if an incident should happen again and a patrol car could reach her while the drone was still visible and airborne, there was little that officers could do. Firstly, they would need to locate and identify the flyer. If they felt that a harassment offence had been committed, they could instruct the flyer to land the drone. However, there was no power of seizure and, indeed, no power to even view the footage unless there was suspected terrorist activity—unlikely in this case. The woman had to be content with an apology and a promise that an officer would definitely come and visit her. In fact, a detective called a few days later, but not specifically because of her case. By then, the big country house had been burgled, and thousands of pounds of silver, porcelain and artwork had been stolen.



About the Author 

Jude Tresswell lives in south-east England but was born and raised in the north, and that’s where her heart is. She is ace, and has been married to the same man for many years. She feels that she understands compromise. She supports Liverpool FC, listens to a lot of blues music and loves to write dialogue.


    Blog/Website  


 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here