Review: The Empires of Luxor City by Sasha Hope

In the aftermath of his father’s funeral, Dom Wesa, the new Alpha of Luxor City’s Central Empire, stumbles upon an Omega in desperate need of help. The Omega, Lin Vasiliev, wakes to find he’s been taken into Dom’s home to be rehabilitated. Dom thinks the young addict may have information about the illicit drug trade going on in his Empire. He gets Lin sober to question him only to discover that Lin is new in town and ignorant of Luxor’s laws.

Dom and Lin are both suspicious of each other at first for their own reasons, but as that wariness wears away a deep attraction develops between them. Dom dotes on Lin, leaving the once stone-broke Omega bathed in finery he never could have imagined. They start planning for Lin’s upcoming heat, when they will be driven together by their kindling bond and strong compatibility as an Alpha and Omega pair. However, in the midst of their swelling romance, Luxor’s most notorious Alpha reappears sparking a gang war that threatens to turn the entire city into a battleground.


Reading books and me haven't been seeing eye to eye lately. I've been devouring fan fiction in my free time. I've tried a good number of books in the interim but nothing stuck.

The Empires of Luxor by debut (published) author Sasha Hope however was one to finally catch and hold my attention. the blurb definitely is a SRAL magnet = ABO + mafia! Plus, the author is a fan fic writer so, it was a win-win-win on all fronts for me.

Overall, Empires is a solid story. We are thrown into a futuristic world where Alpha/ Beta/ Omega (ABO) society is supreme. The world is reformed after the great wars and Luxor City is the capital of New America. It's an island where gangster like empires run it in three different sectors, north, central and south. And we're thrust into the new leader of the central empire, Dom Wesa's reign. his asshole father just died and he tries to hold the empire together without resorting to drug use. And the illegal drug use leads him to a heroin addicted omega, Lin.

Dom and Lin were a cute pair. There was a little snark, some sass, a heavy dose of fluff with a little bit of action/illegal activity sprinkled in.

This read like fan fiction and I'm not hating on that all! I read lots of fan fic now, so it was super easy to jump into. But I can't rate this higher because I expected something more gritty with the world building and main characters and their positions. 

I had a couple of issues:

Lin - he's given the least amount of background. It's disappointing. We don't know nothing of why he left his home. Was he an orphan? Was he running from his troubles? What job did he have? We get the gist of why he turned to drugs for a brief time (kinda quick on shaking the heroin addiction btw) And once he's clean, he goes from shy to vixen? And the pole dancing? It read more gratuitous that helpful to the plot. 

The sex scenes between Lin and Dom - Lin has never had a heat partner. And yet he chose Dom, yet the knotting is glossed over and his first time was a bit lackluster. Again, it might be due to the author not fully laying out the ABO rules in this universe - knotting/mating seemed to be a big deal. The secondary couple's sex scene was way better than the main pair and they didn't even have half of the book to fully explore their plot.

The mafia - mmm...other than telling the reader about being gangsters and cool shooting scenes here and there, Dom wasn't all that bad. He was a teddy bear at the end of the day especially since he just took care of a random "junkie" without doing background checks, etc. My fave 'bad guy' was Jimena actually. 

Dom/Lin relationship - This is an issue I've read in a number of books. If a bad guy finally lets someone in romantically into their lives, there should be a good enough reason as to why the other person is THE ONE. Dom didn't seem so affected when he clapped eyes on Lin. And vice versa. Dom was kind of standoffish/cold and Lin sort of seemed reserved...why mate so quick if the passion wasn't at an all time high? I can ignore insta-love/mating if the passion each character consumes them (I've read a good number of stories where it's believable) But these two go from 0 to 60 then boom 100. Like the indulgent car or strip club scene? It read more for the reader and less for the characters, which sucks because I wanted to love the main characters. I ended the story being more invested in the secondary characters *cough* Jimena (who I couldn't stop picturing as Jidenna after reading the author's blog post)

Overall, the story is good. It reads lighter than it looks. Good world building, wouldn't mind more backstory about this version of omegas. I'd try this author's future works. They have great ideas.


Release Blitz + Giveaway: The New Next One by Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood

Authors Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood, along with IndiGo Marketing, return to celebrate the release of new adult hockey short story, The New Next One! Read more on the romance and enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway! 

Title: The New Next One

Author: Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood

Publisher: Wainscott Press

Release Date: January 22, 2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 20,000 words

Genre: Romance, New Adult, Friends-to-lovers, new adult romance, hockey romance, sports romance

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Synopsis

How much are you willing to give up for the man you love?

Best friends Nick Johnson and Tyler Jensen seem to have the world by the tail. The eighteen-year-old stars of their school’s hockey team are looking forward to playing in college and hoping for careers with the pros.

Nick and Tyler know a lot about each other, but there are a few important details they haven’t discussed. To start with, neither man knows the other is gay. Making things interesting, Nick has a massive crush on Tyler, something he’s kept to himself for a long time. And although he’s never said a word about it, Tyler has wanted to date Nick since they met.

On a cold Minnesota night after a big win, Tyler finds the courage to confess his feelings to Nick. When Nick admits his attraction to Tyler, their relationship turns on a dime. As they fall in love, they skate around the challenges of a secret romance in an all-male boarding school, but what will happen when the stakes rise dramatically in a sport not known for being gay-friendly? Will Nick and Tyler make the easy choice or the hard one?

The New Next One is a 20,000-word, new adult, friends-to-lovers romance featuring young athletes, plenty of steam, and a lot of emotion. The events of this book precede those told in the authors’ book Nice Catching You.

Excerpt

The two of us bundled up and walked south along the lakeshore. We talked about different things—school, what was going on in the NHL, and the big celebration of our championship that would happen the next week when everyone was back on campus. Ty reached for my hand after we passed the cabin. Even with both of us wearing mittens, it felt incredibly good to be out walking on a beautiful day, openly showing affection with my boyfriend. By the time you’re eighteen, holding hands with somebody you’re dating probably doesn’t seem exciting to most people; for me, it was huge, and I wanted to shout out loud. Instead, I pulled us to a stop and kissed him.

Afterward, he tweaked my nose. “I know everybody we play against thinks you’re a real bastard, but you’re actually a sweetheart.”

I gave it right back to him. “They all think you’re a bastard too. Haven’t decided where I stand on that.”

“What do you mean?” He turned his head to the side, looking very cute with tufts of hair sticking out from under his Penguins beanie. “I’ve always been nice to you.”

“I guess so.” I gave him another peck. “Why’d you make me wait all these years?”

I made you wait? Hell, I’m the one who finally worked up enough courage to do something about it.”

Turning him loose, I backhanded his arm and made a silly face. “I guess I’m glad about that.”

His jaw fell into an open-mouthed smile, and he shook his head. “Every man for himself, Johnson!”

He took off running, and I laughed hard as he bent over to pick up a fistful of snow. Quickly shaping it into a ball, he threw it at me and missed by a mile.

“You throw like a girl, Jensie!” I followed that up with a snowball of my own, hitting him in the middle of the chest.

“That’s it, you’re really gonna get it now!”

An epic snowball fight followed as we whooped and hollered, tossing chirps back and forth almost as fast as we volleyed snowballs. We worked our way into the woods as we ran. Ty was a good shot, and we played like little boys on recess after a hard morning at school. When we were both covered with snow and out of breath, Tyler stared at me until my heart raced with anticipation. Finally, he broke into a run. His hug was bone-crushing, and the hungry kisses were messy and delicious. The moment was all fire and promise, and I couldn’t wait to get back to the dorm. He pulled away from my mouth and mumbled, “You’re the most beautiful thing I ever saw, Nick.”

I huffed in cold air while my heart tried to hammer through my ribcage. “Not as beautiful as you.” I pulled him closer for a slow, deep kiss, and when that finally broke, he got a naughty gleam in his eye.

“We’re already covered with snow, so—” He pushed hard, and I tumbled backward into a snowbank. He jumped on top of me, and we wrestled around, making out while we laughed and played. My scarf slipped out of place, and Ty kissed my throat over and over, making me as hard as one of the trees surrounding us. After more rolling around, I was on top, and we lay humping in the snow. We had on heavy parkas, and it was too cold to take off any clothes, so our game was destined to end in frustration. All the better for a mind-blowing first time later that night.

We’d long since removed our mittens, and when we stilled, I wiped some snow off his cheek. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Nick. Everything’s right for once. We’ve got each other.”

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Meet the Authors

Ryan Taylor and Joshua Harwood met in law school and were married in 2017. They live in a suburb of Washington, DC, and share their home with a big, cuddly German shepherd. Ryan and Josh enjoy travel, friends, and advocating for causes dear to their hearts. Ryan also loves to swim, and Josh likes to putter in the garden whenever he can. The romance they were so lucky to find with each other inspires their stories about love between out and proud men.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Love Kills Twice (Fatal Fidelity #1) by Rien Gray

New author Rien Gray and IndiGo Marketing host today's blitz for new release, Love Kills Twice (Fatal Fidelity #1)! Check it out and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 


Title: Love Kills Twice

Series: Fatal Fidelity

Author: Rien Gray

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/18/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: F/NB

Length: 39500

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, assassin, artist, bi, dark, pan, nonbinary, interracial, murder-for-hire, murder, ex-military, guns, sexual tension

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Description

She needs an assassin.
They’re the best in the business.
Falling in love was never part of the deal.

Desperate to escape her abusive husband, Justine hires a contract killer. Campbell’s services come at a high price, and their dark, seductive charisma leads Justine right into their bed. Hiding an affair while Campbell designs the perfect murder has Justine walking a tightrope of stress, but each time the two of them sleep together, it’s harder not to get attached. Campbell struggles with their own traumatic past, convinced that the truth will drive Justine away.

There’s a faint hope that things could work, save for one problem: Justine’s husband wants her dead too.

Revenge is easy—heartbreak could cost both of them everything.

Excerpt

Love Kills Twice
Rien Gray © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Justine

I always imagined hiring an assassin would go differently.

There would be at least one dark alley, a furtive phone call, an exchange in cash⁠—of course it’s cash—and the curse of waiting afterward, whether for the police to arrive or finding out my money went to a fraud.

Instead, I’m sitting in Ortolana, one of the nicest restaurants in Chicago, trying to decide if ordering a rare steak is too on the nose. The server eyes me with refined impatience since my dining companion made their choice in a few brisk words: black coffee, the yellowtail collar, no appetizer.

If this is one of the last meals I ever eat because I had my husband killed, I’m indulging in the steak.

“Anything else for you, ma’am?” the server asks, mouth tight.

I smile. Better to be remembered as polite, if I’m remembered at all. “No, thank you.”

When he disappears with our order, they⁠—Campbell⁠—give a minute shake of their head, amusement a glint in gray eyes. “Not gunning for a tip, is he?”

“Maybe I don’t look like I have money.” To be fair, the fifty thousand dollars I’d spent a decade saving was about to go to the person across from me. “Or he thinks you’re the one who’s paying the check.”

From the outside, it must seem like a date. I’d delved to the back of my closet for a slinky black dress that’s been kissing mothballs since Richard and I attended his holiday office party. My makeup is just this side of sultry, but that isn’t for Campbell’s sake. Painting confidence on my skin with a nice red lipstick and dark eyeshadow is what I needed before I could walk out of the house: a sharp, composed mask.

Their suit is a breath away from black, but in any shift of light, the true cobalt of the linen shines through. Campbell eschews a tie, leaving the top two buttons of a crisp white dress shirt open without any adornment. It bares a triangle of sun-touched skin and the sharp edge of their collarbones.

I deal in paintings, but Campbell is more of a classic statue: sculpted jaw, full mouth, and cheekbones that could blunt a chisel. An aquiline nose adds to the effect, and Campbell’s chestnut hair is tamed in a professional cut. It’s an older style, with an understated elegance.

If we passed on the street, I would have let my gaze linger, but nothing about Campbell says “killer.” Maybe my assumptions are lost in that fictional back alley, chasing black leather gloves and silenced pistols.

“I’m not what you expected, am I, Justine?”

The question snaps me back to the present, and I’m not sure how long I’ve been staring at Campbell⁠—or exactly when they caught me. “Sorry. I’m not doubting your…qualifications.”

A tease of blue plays across each shoulder when Campbell laces their fingers together. “What surprises you the most?”

I cut my teeth on a hundred answers, starting with the locale and ending with the fact that they look more like an executive than an assassin, but the devil is in the details. “The coffee, I think. It’s almost seven at night.”

Campbell’s smile is a half-inch flash of teeth. “I tend to operate at night, but I can rarely indulge in caffeine.”

Nights, of course. This dance around the obvious is practically a farce, but it’s not like I want to announce my true intentions to the Friday night crowd. Our booth is in the corner, but it’s not soundproofed. “Why not?”

“It can make your hands shake.” They gesture to punctuate the point. “Which is a problem when I’m working. For a business dinner, not so much.”

Our server returns with the drink in question, setting an elegant cup on a saucer in front of Campbell. Despite a kneejerk longing for wine, I’m glad I stuck to water. I need to keep my wits about me.

When Campbell brings the coffee to their lips, it’s a fluid movement, surgical in its precision. I wonder what those hands can do⁠—will do⁠—to Richard. A gun would be easiest, I guess, but that’s far beyond the only way to kill someone.

He’ll never hit me again. He’ll never cheat on me again. He’ll never treat me like an ignorant girl, oblivious to nights at the university getting longer and our bed getting colder. I won’t be trotted out like a trophy in front of his fellow professors, who chuckle at his brilliance without having the first clue that I funded both of his degrees. I might even have friends in the future, ones he won’t drive away inch by humiliating inch.

“You really are sure about this,” Campbell says softly, setting their cup back down. Porcelain touches porcelain without a sound.

“Of course I am.”

Acid clings to my tongue, eating at the accusation, but they take it in stride with another fleeting smile. “That’s part of the reasons I take my clients out to dinner, Justine. To make sure there are no doubts. Once I accept a contract, I don’t stop until it’s done.”

A wave of embarrassment douses me, tightening my throat. “Right. I’m sorry. It feels like I’ve been taking everything personally lately.”

At least, according to Richard.

“You keep apologizing, but you don’t have to.” The shine in their eyes isn’t amusement this time; it’s something else, unreadable. “At this point, I’m beyond being offended. And you’re paying me a considerable amount of money.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to offend you, no matter how impossible it might be,” I say.

What I want to say is that I can’t remember the last time I had a night out like this, or the last time someone looked at me as more than an accessory. Campbell is watching my every move, but what should be terrifying is only leaving me hungry for the attention.

They kill people for a living. Why doesn’t that scare me?

“I do appreciate good manners,” Campbell comments, but their gaze flickers over my shoulder. “Tuck your elbow in.”

“Why?” The question is instinctive, but I listen anyway, bringing my arm in against my side.

Out of the corner of my eye, the server reappears with a covered silver platter, swiftly delivering it to our table. He removes the polished lid, announcing our entrees with theatrical detail, but my eyes aren’t on the food. They’re on Campbell, waiting for an answer.

I don’t get one until the server is out of sight.

Campbell smooths a silken napkin across their lap, then takes the provided pair of chopsticks in hand with the ease of long practice. “Considering the angle he took from the kitchen, he wouldn’t have been able to see you there with the tray in the way. It’s a design flaw in an otherwise lovely restaurant.”

I raise an eyebrow, picturing a comedy of errors that ends with eighty dollars of wagyu beef in my lap. “He would have knocked into me?”

They hum in agreement, then turn their chopsticks to sharper purpose, peeling a portion of crispy fish clean from the bone. It gleams, white and bare. “I thought I’d save you the trouble.”

Unease coils in the pit of my stomach. Meeting Campbell hadn’t set me on edge, but something about them reading the server’s approach in a blink and warning me with casual detachment does. That kind of reflex hangs the word “danger” in my mind like a neon sign. They’re a predator, surrounded by unknowing prey.

I glance down at my steak, then summon the will to pick up my fork as if I eat with professional killers every night of the week.

“It’s normal to be nervous.” Campbell tucks a bite of yellowtail between their teeth. It vanishes quietly. “As long as you’re set on what you want to do, you can be as nervous as you like.”

I must be radiating anxiety, but it still feels like they read my mind. “Details would help me relax.”

Even on a twisting stomach, the steak is the perfect amount of decadence, butter, and salt. I cut into another piece, juices spilling free under the serrated edge.

“What kind of details would you like?” they ask.

“When is this happening?” My eyes fall on their near-empty cup of coffee. “Not tonight, I know, but when?”

“Depending on the complexity of his schedule, my window is three weeks.” Their chopsticks dart around a fragile fin, seeking a thread of meat hidden underneath. “That includes scouting, alibi, and execution.”

I pause with my next bite halfway to my mouth. Execution bleeds with meaning, visceral and full, but it’s not inaccurate. “Your alibi or mine?”

“Yours,” Campbell confirms. “It wouldn’t do for you to be too close to any accidents.”

An accident. That’s probably what they’ll put in the paper. Richard is well known enough to earn an article, if not a front-page one.

I nod. “Do you need anything from me?”

“Once payment is settled, a copy of any of his keys that you can get ahold of. The same with his schedule.” Their gaze pierces me through. My blood turns to ice, but my heart beats faster. “Is your husband predictable, Justine?”

What I hear is will it be easy?

A smile rises to my lips unbidden. “Very.”

The rest of dinner passes in silence, save for an occasional comment on the food. It’s nice enough that I almost forget why we’re here, snapping to reality as our plates are cleared and the check arrives. Campbell does pay, using a couple of large bills. Once our server is gone again, they retrieve an envelope from inside their jacket. It’s already open when they offer it to me, revealing a packet of papers.

“What’s this?” I frown, prying out what’s inside.

They keep the envelope.

“The contract for the painting you’re about to purchase, of course.” Campbell’s expression is open but empty, like a door leading to an elevator shaft. “Your money has to be invested properly.”

I unfold the packet revealing an agreement of sale contract, the same sort I see ten times a week at the gallery. As I scan each page, lines of familiar legalese jump out. It’s legitimate, or would be if Campbell actually had a painting that I wanted to buy.

“Don’t tell me you’re a lawyer too,” I say.

Campbell shakes their head. “No, but I have a very competent one. She keeps a lot in order for me.”

It’s perfect. There are a dozen other contracts like it in my desk drawer, and the number for an offshore account jumps off the page, waiting for my transfer to put it out of reach and otherwise untraceable.

“But how did you know I…” When we spoke on the phone, Campbell never asked what I did for a living. “This is too fitting.”

“I don’t show in person before looking someone up.” They produce a pen, handing it to me. “And I had to make sure you could actually pay me.”

If I had my way, I’d be making art and not selling it, but only the latter had made enough money to fund Richard’s master’s. His current salary isn’t enough for us to trade places, even with a shot at tenure approaching. My paints are stored in a cool, dry place, but I haven’t touched them in years. Almost ten.

My weekends might be free enough for a canvas or two soon.

“You’ll have twenty-four hours to deposit the money in the account listed there,” Campbell says. Did they take my quiet, bitter musing as hesitation? “If you don’t, I’ll assume you’re calling things off.”

My signature ends with a flourish, and I wait for the ink to dry before folding the contract again. “I’ll send it as soon as I’m home.”

“Excellent.” They rise to their feet, a signal to do the same. “It was a pleasure, Justine. Once everything clears, I’ll be in touch.”

Campbell extends their hand, and I offer mine, surprised they want to shake on it. Instead, they bring my fingers to their lips, kissing the top of them. Shock ripples through me, heat lingering on my skin when Campbell lets go.

“Thanks,” I answer, breathless.

With a step back, they establish a professional distance again. Campbell brushes a nigh-invisible wrinkle from one suit cuff. “Fortin is an interesting last name. Are you going to keep it?”

That’s a question I hadn’t considered. Instinct tells me I should, to play the part of the grieving widow. Fortin has gotten me a lot farther than Zhang ever did in the art world, even with how popular Chinese art is.

Anger spits out a thousand spikes and snarls. He’s already taken so much from me. The idea that I might stay beholden to Richard, even after he dies, throws a red veil across my vision. Then I breathe, and it’s gone.

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out,” I say.

Campbell holds my gaze, then nods before turning away. I check my purse for a split second to make sure I have everything, but when I look up again, they’re already gone.

I better send that money before they think I’ve lost my nerve.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Rien Gray is a queer, nonbinary writer who has worked in ghostwriting, TTRPGS, and video games. They have a treasured (and ever-growing) collection of LGBTQ+ history books as well as a deep, abiding love for Greek myth. Rien has an upcoming short story in Neon Hemlock’s Baffling Magazine. They live in Ireland.

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Release Blitz: Forecast (99 Daddies #3) by Casey Cox

Author Casey Cox and IndiGo Marketing celebrate the release of Forecast (99 Daddies #3)! Daddy kink fans rejoice! Read more about the romance today!

 

Title: Forecast

Series: 99 Daddies Book 3

Author: Casey Cox

Publisher: Self-published

Release Date: 16 Jan 2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 66k

Genre: Romance, New Adult

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Synopsis

Forecast: (noun)

A calculation or estimate of future events, especially coming weather.
See also: Liam “I'm Always Right” Wright.

Not your typical Daddy. Not your typical boy.
Not your typical fake relationship.

Hudson Madden looks like the kind of guy you don’t want to piss off—he’s a walking wall of muscle, brightly tatted ink up both arms, and low grunts. But underneath it all, he’s a gentle giant. One who can’t find what he wants because of the assumptions people make:

He must be an alpha.
He must be a dominant Daddy.
He must be looking for a sweet, passive boy.

The truth is more complicated. Haunted by memories of a former lover, and interested in exploring types of sex that aren’t easily defined, Hudson is happy to harbour his innocent crush on the local weatherman.

Until said weatherman crush walks into Hudson’s gym and turns his life upside down.

Liam “I’m Always Right” Wright. It might be a cute catchphrase, but when it comes to love, Liam is always wrong.

Liam hasn’t got time for love. He’s got his sights set on the big time, becoming a prime time meteorologist on a major national TV station. He’ll do anything it takes to get the promotion, even if it means entering into a fake relationship to improve his chances.

A quick-fix, no-mess solution.

So why does it feel so right when Hudson looks at him, spends time with him, and gets to know him in a way that no one ever has?

Will Hudson be able to break down his walls and let Liam in? And when forced to choose between his career and love, will Liam be able to make the right choice?

FORECAST

Forecast is a Daddy-lite fake relationship MM romance featuring a gentle giant of a Daddy, and an ambitious weatherman.

Come along for the ride and enjoy some crazy/sexy/cool shenanigans involving tantra, multiple orgasms, a heartfelt list of 18 favorite things, a crew of sassy friends, lots of LOLs, and all the feels on the way to a heartwarming HEA.

Forecast is the third book in the 99 Daddies series. Each book in the series will contain overlapping characters and storylines, so you may enjoy them more by reading them in order.

99 DADDIES

99 Daddies is a hilarious, entertaining, and heartwarming contemporary / new adult Daddy/boy MM romance series.

Escape to Daylesford, the (fictional) Daddy capital of America. If you love steamy and complex Daddy/boy dynamics, May-December gay romances with a twist, sweet and sassy MM age gap romances—and chasing those guaranteed HEAs—you’ll love it here.

So come along and meet the 99 Daddies of Daylesford. Who will be YOUR favorite?

Excerpt

"Hello?"

My ears pricked up at the familiarity of that voice.

I snapped my head around and there he was, not on all eight TV screens as I was used to seeing him, but just one person standing right in front of me, on the other side of my front desk.

Liam “Am I Seeing This Right?” Wright.

"Oh, hey, look, Hudson, it's that guy you always make us turn every TV screen over to wa—"

My elbow found Zander's side, and thankfully, that just so happened to be where his shut the fuck up button was located.

"Hello," I said in as normal a voice as I could muster.

What the hell was happening here? How was it that Liam Wright was standing right in front of me, looking all sorts of weatherman-gorgeous? He must have come directly from the studio, because he was wearing the same outfit he'd had on earlier in the evening.

Suddenly, I wished that the counter wasn't so high so that I could look down and get a better view of his amazing…

I snapped myself out of that inappropriate, unprofessional thought by saying, "How—how can I help you?"

I tried to smile. I think I might have been smiling. I couldn't tell. I couldn't feel my face, or my feet, or my hands, anymore.

This was precisely the reason why I had avoided approaching him six times before. I was turning to mush.

"I'd like to join the gym," he said. His voice just sounded so familiar, which I guess made sense, since I'd been hearing it every day on the news for the last eighteen months. "Oh, and I'll need a personal trainer as well."

Was it possible to be both floored and speechless at the same time? The answer to that question was a resounding hell yes. Trust me, it was coming from a guy who was on the floor, unable to speak.

"We can definitely arrange that," I said after a much-too-long silence. My eyes were glued to him as my hand tapped around the counter, desperately searching for the paperwork and a pen.

"Here you go," I said, once I had finally found them. I looked down and was surprised to see my hands trembling. I quickly pulled them back and placed them firmly on the counter.

Why the hell was I shaking?

I mean, I had seen the guy in the flesh six times before. Although now that I thought about it, every time I had seen him, I'd started to shake and feel a little light-headed. I'd just assumed that was because Porter was around, and he tended to have a mildly nauseating effect on people.

"Do you have a trainer available? I'd like to start as soon as possible. Preferably tomorrow morning, please," Liam said as he looked up from the paperwork he was filling out.

"Yes, of course," I said, and then my brain left my head because the next words out of my mouth were, "My name is Hudson Madden. I'm the owner of Elite Fitness, and I would love to turn you on…"

Shitty shit, shit, shit!

I cleared my throat. "Take you on."

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Meet the Author

Casey Cox is devoted to delighting readers with sassy, sweet and sometimes steamy tales of gorgeous, good-hearted and complex men chasing their HEA. Casey lives on the east coast of Australia, loves the beach and is a proud paw-parent to two utterly adorable French Bulldogs named Ralphie and Lilly. Find out more on Casey's Website. 

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Guest Review: Gideon (Boyfriend For Hire #3) by RJ Scott & Meredith Russell

A snowy cabin with one bed? That’s only the first step toward Gideon falling in love.

Gideon is too old to be fought over at Christmas by divorced parents who should know better. The prospect of a Christmas on his own is better than having to face either of them. When Rowan hires him for a wintery break in Maine, it seems like a safe choice until his PA’s meddling family shows him something entirely new: Love.

Rowan hiring his boss for a trip back to his moms’ place for Christmas sounded like a good idea at the time. Killing two birds with one stone, he can cheer up Gideon and possibly steal a kiss under the mistletoe. After all, he’s been hiding his attraction to the man for years, and maybe with some Christmas magic, he can help Gideon see what is right under his nose.




Reviewer: Shee Reader


I had read the preceding books in the series, and was delighted to see Gideon get his HEA.

Oh how I love a I-cant-have-him-he-works-for-me and oops-there's-only-one-bed trope!

Gideon is set in his ways and has nothing to offer his fabulous assistant Rowan. Rowan however, sees Gideon as he really is, and will definitely convince the older man that they can be something good.

The trip home to Rowan’s amazing family is chaotic and noisy enough to send Gideon into a spin, but Rowan's adoptive mums and their wonderful home and family are the perfect tonic for Gideon’s own cold upbringing.

The characters are lovely and warm, the family are crazy and I adored that Rowan’s dog was named after Gideon in honour of his grumpy nature!

The fact that the dog loves Gideon is perfection.

There are frosty walks, meddling family and a whole lot of love.

This book is a delight. Perfect for the current times. I would have just liked a bit more development of the relationship back at work.

Recommended.

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



Audiobook Release Blitz + Giveaway: Inheritance of Shadows (Lost in Time) by A.L. Lester

Author A.L. Lester and IndiGo Marketing celebrate the audio book release of Callum Hale narrated fantasy romance, Inheritance of Shadows (Lost in Time)! Check out more of the historical romantic suspense and enter in the giveaway to win the first two books of the Lost in Time series!


Title: Inheritance of Shadows

Series: Lost in Time

Author: A. L. Lester

Narrator: Callum Hale

Publisher: A. L. Lester

Release Date: December 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 3 Hours 20 Minutes

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Mystery, Paranormal, Romantic Suspense, Historical, 1920s, Rural, Farming, UK, England, British

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Synopsis

It’s 1919. Matty returns home to the family farm from the trenches only to find his brother Arthur dying of an unknown illness. The local doctor thinks cancer, but Matty becomes convinced it’s connected to the mysterious books his brother left strewn around the house.

Rob knows something other than just Arthur’s death is bothering Matty. He’s know him for years and been in love with him just as long. And when he finds something that looks like a gate, a glowing, terrifying doorway to the unknown, it all starts to fall in to place.

Matty’s looking sicker and sicker in the same way Arthur did. What is Rob prepared to sacrifice to save him?

The answer is in the esoteric books…and with the mysterious Lin of the Frem, who lives beyond the gate to nowhere. It’s taken Matty and Rob a decade and a war to admit they have feelings for each other and they are determined that neither social expectations or magical illness will part them now.

A stand-alone 35k novella introducing the Lost in Time Universe.

Excerpt

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Meet the Author

Writer of queer, paranormal, historical, romantic suspense. Lives in the South West of England with Mr AL, two children, a badly behaved dachshund, a terrifying cat and some hens. Likes gardening but doesn't really have time or energy. Not musical. Doesn't much like telly. Non-binary. Chronically disabled. Has tedious fits.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Out in Winter (Out in College #8) by Lane Hayes

Join author Lane Hayes and IndiGo Marketing as they celebrate the release of winter romance, Out in Winter (Out in College #8)! Read more about the latest in the popular series and enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!


Title: Out in Winter

Series: Out in College, Book 8

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: January 11, 2021

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 32k

Genre: Romance, Bisexual, Friends to Lovers, College romance, Humor, Jock, Age Gap

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Synopsis

The grad student, the jock, and some winter fun…

Drew

My new job at the bistro is fun. The owners are good guys, and the staff is made up primarily of boisterous water polo players. I know nothing about the sport except there’s a Speedo involved, and Liam likes to wear his everywhere. Yes…Liam—the chatty, handsome, utterly charming waiter I can’t seem to stop thinking about. Ugh. Note to self—do not fall for another younger man.

Liam

Getting Drew to notice me hasn’t been easy. He’s a little intense, and he knows how to keep his distance. Something tells me he’s not immune—he’s just stubborn. Maybe a weekend of bonding on the ski slopes will win him over. And if I can get him to come out in winter, I might be able to convince him that we have a chance at something special.

Out in Winter is a low-angst MM, bisexual romance starring an oh so serious grad student, a goofball water polo player, and a little winter magic. This story is part of the Out in College series, but each book can be read as a stand-alone.

Excerpt

The stunning winter wonderland panorama was dotted with impossibly tall evergreens flocked with snow and the pristine hills glistening in the morning sun. It was so quiet, I could almost imagine we were alone in the world. That was precisely the kind of thought that freaked me out sometimes. But not today. Today the idea seemed…promising. Maybe even cleansing, like a new start.

“It’s beautiful,” I said reverently.

“This is one of the reasons I like coming out here early. The light is so brilliant. It looks like a postcard or the photo in the dictionary next to the word ‘hope.’ ”

“That’s a nice thought.”

We shared a smile; then he adjusted his goggles and inclined his head meaningfully. “Ready?”

“Yeah, but…you go first.”

“C’mere.” Liam crooked his finger.

I shuffled forward until I stood beside him with our skis pointing in the opposite direction, expecting him to impart some advice about the terrain or maybe remind me how to stop. Both might have been helpful, actually.

“What is it?”

“Hold on to my sleeve. Stay still. That’s perfect.” He stroked my chin before leaning in to press his lips to mine. “You taste like cherry ChapStick. I like.”

I grinned. “Thanks. So do you.”

He kissed me again, twisting his tongue with mine and leaving me breathless. “Mmm. I’m making it my personal quest to make sure you get down this mountain safely and that you have fun doing it.”

“Good luck with that,” I sighed, aware that my voice had taken on a dreamy quality.

“I don’t need luck. I’m an expert,” he bragged playfully. “I’m going to give you a couple of tips. Listen up.”

“I’m listening.”

“Bend your knees and stay loose.”

“Like this?” I bent my knees and wiggled my arms like a rubber band.

Liam chuckled. “Something like that. We’re gonna take it slow, moving from side to side, making wide turns. I’ll go first. Follow me and remember to keep your gaze forward.”

“As opposed to?”

“Looking at your skis. You don’t look at your feet when you’re walking, so don’t look at your skis when you’re skiing. It’ll fuck with your balance. Ready?”

“Yeah.” I licked my lips and nodded.

Liam glided smoothly down the incline, veering sharply to the right. He stopped with a flourish, sending a plume of powdery snow skyward before raising his poles triumphantly. I snickered at the silly display. He made it seem fun and relatively easy. All right, then. I could do this.

I grasped my poles in a vise grip and dug into the snow, propelling myself forward. I aimed my skis in Liam’s general direction and honestly, it felt pretty damn good. I was in control, a cool breeze on my face, and a light wind at my back. Best of all, I appeared to be closing in on my correct destination. A hot guy was waiting for me in front of a huge pine tree with—

Oh, fuck.

I couldn’t stop. I picked up speed and barreled forward, trying to remember his advice. Knees bent. Check. Don’t look at your skis. Check. Stay loose…

Nope. Not possible.

I was wound so tight my head felt like it might pop off. Every muscle in my body was rigid as I zoomed closer to Liam…and the tree. It occurred to me as my life began to flash in front of my eyes that if I turned downhill, I could avoid the tree and move in the right direction. I might not have control of my skis, but Liam seemed to know what he was doing. No doubt he’d catch up easily and offer tips on how not to kill myself along the way. A comical vision of him doing circles around me while I tumbled into a giant snowball flashed in my head.

And that might have been when things went sideways.

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Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, and 2018-2019 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.

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Audiobook Review: His Fairy Share (Starfig Investigations #3) by Meghan Maslow

“Why does this always happen to us?” Quinn Broomsparkle, wizard extraordinaire 

Six months have passed since wizard Quinn Broomsparkle left behind his indentured servant shackles. He’s in love with his half-dragon/half-fairy familiar, Twig Starfig. He’s got a home. Friends. A job. And a father-in-law he could do without. A pretty close to perfect life. But as Quinn has learned the hard way, things rarely stay peaceful for long. Especially when a Starfig’s involved. 

Summoned to his home realm and a past he’d thought left behind, Quinn and Twig find themselves in the middle of evil machinations . . . with no clear enemy. When Quinn’s younger brother, Zak, goes missing, it’s Starfig Investigations on the case. 

Being the first wizard in a thousand years isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. On top of a missing brother, a broken-hearted red fury, an archivist with a secret, and a ghost pirate-parrot who’s determined to return to his captain, Quinn and Twig’s relationship is sorely tested when questions—and unhappy answers—about their mating dilemma are pushed to the fore. 

All Quinn wants is his fairy share of happiness. Is that so much to ask?

Narrated by: Greg Boudreaux
Run time: 11 hrs, 51 mins


Lighthearted Wizardry to kick off 2021!

I adore this series and His Fairy Share may well be the best one yet. Not only is it action-packed with a complex mystery storyline that will keep even the sleuthiest sleuth guessing but it was F.U.N.! Maslow pressed the accelerator to the floor from the beginning and kept it there throughout. Nothing like holding onto the side of a speeding train by your fingernails, ammiright? 

But I can't lie what I really and truly love are these characters especially when they're in the capable and adept hands of Greg Boudreaux, so much so that when I requested this installment I felt it necessary to re-listen to the first two of the series for the fourth? time. I don't know how he can switch between so many characters, always make them unique AND remember them all! Talk about magical...

Twig, Quinn, Bill, Cookie and Pirate McPiratestein have nestled into my heart and simply put, I love hanging out with them and seeing what sorts of shenanigans they get up to. Shenanigans that will undoubtedly irritate Auric Starfig. Now, I realize I'm in the minority here but that crabby fairy has amused me from the jump and he continues to do so. He only plays a small but crucial role in this installment and I have to say, I missed that cranky bastard. 

Usually Twig and Quinn get into their pickles in the Elder but this time they've taken their show on the road to the Hominus Realm. Another change being we're also told His Fairy Share through Quinn's viewpoint rather than Twig. Fitting since he's there to see his family for the first time since being sold into slavery. By them! Needless to say, I was not a fan of his people except Zak but they do meet some good "people" along the way, as they always do. Beckett plus a whole host of pirates will make nice additions to the The Clan of Twig and, the good lord willing, will play a role in Starfig Investigations #4.

Because it's The Clan of Twig and what it represents that draws me to this series again and again. It validates and continues to reinforce the notion that people can overcome perceived shortcomings particularly with the love and devotion of others. It also continues to turn the social order on its head and propose anti-heroes as the ones to emulate and conventional leaders as the ones to side eye. The fact that all of this clever subtext is couched in a tongue in cheek tone, fun capers with a heaping side of sexy hijinks is precisely what makes Starfig Investigations one of my favorite fantasy series and will surely lead to a fifth re-listen. 

Recommended! (not as a stand alone though)




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




Book Blast: The Vanishing of Owen Taylor by Kyle Michel Sullivan

Check out author Kyle Michael Sullivan and Gay Book Promotions' book blast for The Vanishing of Owen Taylor, a contemporary murder mystery, today!

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Vanishing of Owen Taylor

Author:  Kyle Michel Sullivan

Publisher:  KMSCB

Cover Artist: JamTheCat

Release Date: April 28, 2016

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Murder Mystery/Suspense

Trope/s: Anti-gay conspiracy, intolerance, corrupt legal system

Themes: Cost of unconditional love

Warning: References to rape

Heat Rating: 3 out of 5

Length: 121 070 words/ 355 pages in PB; 274 in HC

Is it a standalone book? Somewhat. Jake Blaine is the MC in this book, and it's a semi-followup to Rape in Holding Cell 6, a book I wrote with his lover, Antony, as the MC...but it's not absolutely necessary you read that book to follow this one (tho' it might help, at the beginning).

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Book 1 - Rape in Holding Cell 6

 

Buy Links

Author's Blog   |   Smashwords

    

When his uncle disappears, Jake goes to Palm Springs to find out why only to get caught in a web of fear, hate, betrayal ... and what looks more and more like murder ... with Jake targeted as the next victim.

  

Blurb

Was it murder? Suicide? Or did Owen Taylor vanish to avoid prosecution for rape? Everyone had their own idea, but the only note he left behind was sent to his nephew, Jacob Blaine, in Denmark ... which was crazy, because Owen knew Jake was currently living in the States.

Of course this happened at the worst possible time for Jake. He was helping his lover, Antony, fight bogus criminal charges; his estranged, anti-gay mother was battling cancer; his job in Copenhagen wanted him to return there -- now; and worst of all ... Antony was pushing him away. It was tearing him apart.

But Uncle Owen had backed him up through some rough times, so Jake made what he thought would be a short trip to Palm Springs, to see if he could find out what happened. He re-connected with Dion, his first true love, and then he discovered other men had also disappeared. On top of that, an organization called PSALMS was spreading hate and distrust of the gay community as part of their plan to turn back gay rights.

The more Jake dug into Owen's disappearance, the more he found lies, deceit and treachery by members of the police force, people in the DA's office, and even some of Owen's friends. And behind it all was someone who would do everything they could to keep their true motives hidden.

Even have Jake vanish, as well.



Excerpt

This is from the end of Book 1, Part 4, where Jake has Antony and their techie-roommate, Matt, do some research:

They read the message and Matt did some cross-referencing on his diamond-sharp laptop as I spoke, popping in with, “Okay, got that here,” and, “It fits.” He also found a chart showing Warren Philby had a ninety-five percent conviction rate and was talking about running for Riverside District Attorney in the next election. As a Republican with a Tea Party bent.

Already I hated the prick.

That’s when I noticed Tone looking at me with his quiet, wary expression, so I snarled, “You don’t believe my uncle’d molest a kid, do you?”

“No.” He frowned like he was insulted I’d even asked him that question.

“So what...is...it?”

“I dunno. It just doesn’t line up with...well, your father called your mother, asking about your uncle’s condos and — “

“Condos? He had more’n one?”

“Four. One he lived in; three he rented out. He also owns some other property.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, how d’you know my father called mom?”

“She...she told me.”

I nearly fell off the chair. “My mother called you?”

Tone blinked and looked away. “Uh...looking for you. I...I told her you were...you were out of the country.”

“When?”

“Day before yesterday.”

Man, I should’ve gone to see her the second I got back.

“What’d she say to you, Tone?”

He sighed. “She knows why you’re here. And she...she said stuff like, That’s just like you, to let people drag you down.Then she gave me her number and address — “

“I know that shit,” I said. “I’m goin’ straight over.”

“She’s moved, Jake,” said Matt.

“She sold her townhouse? She loved that place.”

“Just telling you what she told me,” Tone said. He gave me a slip of paper with a phone number and address.

“This is south side,” I muttered.

Tone shrugged. He wouldn’t know, but my mother was one of those types who only want to live around acceptable people. In her eyes, Southside was...borderline...at best.

“Matt, we’ll be right back.” I went around the counter, took Tone by the arm and guided him up into the bedroom, then closed the door, sat him on the bed and kneeled before him, looking hard into his eyes.

“Y’know, I had lunch with Mira. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

He hesitated then looked straight back at me, his eyes sharp as cut diamonds. “That therapist I’m seeing...that the state’s making me see. I...I asked him to talk with her. Told him she’s a psychologist and has a clinic in Paris and...and I wanted her to know everything that happened was on me. Not you.”

“She already knew that.”

“...Maybe. This verified it.”

“And you talk about me not tellin’ you things?”

“I...uh...I didn’t think she’d let you know.”

“Great defense. So what’s in those notes?”

He looked away. “You already know everything in them.”

I took a deep breath. “Tone...what. The fuck. Is goin’ on, here?” He just stared at the wall. No expression. I took his face in my hands and made him look at me. “Okay, whatever it was that my mother said to you — keep in mind...that bitch kicked me out of her home when I was seventeen. I haven’t seen her since, so what she knows about me and who I am is zero. Zip. Nada. Anything she says is just her messin’ with us.”

He shrugged me off and said, “But she’s right. You wouldn’t be here except for me.”

“You’re right, you little shit — I wouldn’t. I’d be fresh out of jail. Or still livin’ in Nana’s house. Barely existing. I’d never have met my brothers and sisters in Paris, or gotten to work with my Uncle Ari, or become a Danish citizen. I’d be an ex-con. But I’m here, alive, because of you. So what. Did. My mother. Say. To you?”

“Just...just what I told you.”

“Bullshit!” No response. I sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor. “You don’t wanna talk, don’t. But this is a woman who told her only child that she hates him bein’ queer.”

“Maybe...maybe you shouldn’t go see her...“

“I got to. Somethin’ is goin’ on with my uncle and the only way to get the truth of what she knows is a face-to-face.”

He ran his hand through my hair. God, I loved it when he did that. Then he whispered, “Should I stock up on alcohol?”

I sighed from the emotion in his voice and nodded. “Twelve-pack. No, fuck it — Tequila.”

“I’ll get some mixers and we’ll make a nice queeny night of it. A Christian, a Muslim, and a Jew had a party...“ He snorted. “Sounds like the setup for a joke.”

I made him look at me. “Hey, I’m half Catholic.”

His hand whispered over my cheek and his eyes grew hurt, again. “My all-American mutt.”

All I could think to say was, “Don’t let mom mess with us, Tone.” He ruffled my hair then got up and left the room.

I leaned against the bed. He’d lied to me. My mother’s crap comments weren’t bad enough to rip him up. There was definitely something else going on in his head, and he’d used them as a wall to hide behind.

Well...sitting on the floor wasn’t getting anything done. I got up, got dressed, and headed over to the insurance company where she worked. I wanted a professional environment around us, in case things got nasty, because she was damn well going to explain to me what the hell she was pulling.

Only it turned out she hadn’t worked there in nearly three years.

Man...I had a lot of catching up to do, with her.



About the Author 

Kyle Michel Sullivan is a writer and self-involved artist out to change the world until it changes him...as has already happened in far too many ways.

He has written books that range from sunshine and light ("David Martin") to cold and dark ("How To Rape A Straight Guy", which has been banned a couple of times) to flat out crazy ("The Lyons' Den") to mainstream ("The Alice '65"). He has now ventured into SF-Horror-Suspense with "The Beast in the Nothing Room" and taken Capitalism to its logical extreme in "Hunter".

He is currently working to complete "A Place of Safety", his Irish novel; "Darian's Point", a gothic horror story set in Ireland; and "Dair's Window", about an artist trying to rebuild his world after the death of his lover.

Kyle uses Tolstoy as his guide, and is trying to build characters as vivid and real as possible. He has a lot of fun doing it mixed with angst, anger, and amazement... but that's the lot of a writer.



Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |   Twitter  |   Instagram

 

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a signed hardcover copy of The Vanishing of Owen Taylor

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signed paperback set of Rape in Holding Cell 6 & The Vanishing of Owen Taylor 

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Chaos in Milan (Night Flyer Trilogy #3) by Edale Lane

Author Edale Lane and Other Worlds Ink returns with a new blog tour for historical romance, Chaos in Milan (Night Flyer Trilogy #3)! Read more about the latest from the trilogy and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway! 

Chaos in Milan - Edale Lane

Edale Lane has a new FF historical romance out, book 3 in the Night Flyer Trilogy: "Chaos in Milan." And there's a giveaway!

When chaos strikes at the heart of Milan, it is up to Florentina’s alter-ego the Night Flyer to stop it. As Florentina and Madelena’s love deepens, so does the well of danger surrounding them. The race is on to discover the mysterious Shadow Guild and uncover who is behind the deadly rampage, but Florentina’s mission is threatened by a gang of assassins. Can the Night Flyer prevail, or will Maddie’s love be ripped from her arms?

Chaos in Milan is the third book in Edale Lane’s Night Flyer Trilogy, a tale of power, passion, and payback in Renaissance Italy. If you like action and suspense, rich historical background, three-dimensional characters, and a sweet romance, then you’ll want to complete the Night Flyer saga. Order your copy of Chaos in Milan today!

Amazon eBook | Amazon Paperback


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Excerpt

Chaos in Milan meme - Edale Lane

Madelena found herself winded by the time they departed an old dirt road to traipse through knee high grass to the dilapidated wood-plank structure with an obvious hole in its roof. She was indeed thankful for the sensible shoes. Once inside, she set down the bag containing their lunch and wineskins, and settled herself onto a wooden barrel to catch her breath. The scent of rotting hay permeated the space which offered an abundance of natural light through the open double doors, cracks between siding planks, and the gap overhead. Cobwebs draped the corners, and dry balls of petrified horse manure littered the earthen floor.

Her initial excitement was rekindled as she beheld Fiore change into the black silk tunic and tight leather trousers that never failed to kindle her passion. She brimmed with anticipation while Florentina laced the soft-soled footwear over the bottoms of her leggings. With no need of a mask and cowl, Maddie enjoyed a full view of her face and long brunette braid.

Eyes glowing, Maddie purred, “Seeing you in that attire takes my breath away and inspires me to… well,” she added blushing. “I promised to let you work.”

Florentina flashed her a grin. “Happy to please you, my dear.” Then she proceeded to race toward a reinforced portion of the rear wall and up it, running one, two, three vertical steps up the planks followed by a backflip, landing on her feet in the powdery dust. Maddie’s eyes flew wide as she had not imagined such a feat was even possible.

She witnessed Fiore scale ropes up the sides of walls, swing from one to another, hang upside-down with her ankle wrapped in a cord, and run, hop, leap, and climb over every inch of her lair. Observing the tall, lean frame of her children’s tutor pass from one athletic exploit to the next with the dexterity and strength of an Olympian set her heart racing with desire, but also terrified her. Maddie knew that she would do these same exercises at great heights and risk to her person. A fall here may hurt a little, but a fall from a three-story building… don’t think about it!

After a bit, a sweaty Florentina, breathing heavy from her exertion, walked over for a sip to drink. “Mi Tesoro!” Maddie exclaimed. “I knew you could do things, but you are truly magnificent. How did you ever-”

“Practice,” Fiore answered as she wiped her face with a cloth. “Much practice and determination.”

Next, Florentina withdrew her multi-fire crossbow from her shoulder bag. “You invented that,” Maddie said as a half statement, half question.

Fiore nodded. “It was Master Leonardo’s idea, in a way,” she replied with a shrug. Florentina then fired off eight shots in rapid succession at eight separate targets situated around the barn. Some were painted circles, others sets of clothing stuffed with straw, and a few burlap sacks filled with sand that hung from cords. Fiore retrieved her bolts and reloaded the weapon.

“You hit every one!” Maddie gushed in amazement.

“Yes, but I’ve practiced with these marks for months,” the skilled vigilante replied as though unimpressed with herself. “Moving targets or hitting them while I’m running is more difficult.” Florentina pushed the burlap sacks so that they each started to sway in different directions and at varying speeds, then raced across the barn, pivoted, and began to fire. She first shot at the moving targets, then fired at the dummies as she ran traversed the dirt floor. “See,” she said, motioning as she skidded to a halt in front of Madelena. “I hit that one in the knee—I was aiming for its shoulder. And that bag?” she motioned. “I was supposed to strike the green circle, not just anywhere on it.”

“But still,” Maddie replied in amazement. “You hit every target, even if not in the spot you intended. That is quite astonishing.”

Florentina smiled, bent down, and placed her lips to Maddie’s. “Grazie,” she said. “Now, I want to show you something new,” she announced, a twinkle in her bright, tawny eyes. Madelena stood and followed Fiore over to where she had set her bag; the barrel was getting uncomfortable, anyway.

Fiore withdrew a polished wooden case, set it on a rickety work table, one of the few excuses for furniture in the barn, and opened it with care. “I found these when I went into the Oriental shop to acquire more opium.”

Maddie frowned. “I didn’t know you use that drug.”

“Oh, I don’t,” Fiore assured her. “Only for medicinal purposes and to subdue city watchmen without causing them any actual harm.”

“I’ve been in that shop,” Madelena commented. “They have some unusual merchandise and a few very popular items. I purchased one of those painted silk fans that are in fashion.”

Florentina nodded. “They have nice things.” Then, from the plush black velvet interior of the box, she retrieved a silver five-pointed star about three inches long. The edges appeared sharp and Fiore held it judiciously in her gloved hand.

“What is it?” Maddie asked.

“The shop owner didn’t know,” Florentina answered with a sly grin. “But I had read about these in an obscure book on Oriental weapons. It’s a Chinese throwing star. There are five in the set.”

“A throwing star,” Maddie echoed as she moved in for a closer look.

“The Spaniard threw a knife at me in the Pantheon,” Fiore recalled. “Throwing-knives are deadlier, can do more damage than these, but it is a skill that is difficult to master. With the star, I have five small blades rather than one longer one with which to hit my target. They are good to distract or throw a foe off balance. Strikes to the eye or weapon hand are debilitating and may take an enemy out of the fight. Because the tines are short and cannot penetrate deep into flesh, only a strike to the big artery in the neck or severing the windpipe in the throat can kill. I think these will prove quite useful, but I’ve only been practicing with them for a few weeks.”

With admiration and anticipation oozing through her voice, Maddie sang, “Show me.”

Florentina removed all five stars from the box and positioned herself in the middle of the barn. “Stand behind me,” she instructed as she lifted one from her left hand. “I’ve had no teacher to instruct me, so I had to guess as to how to throw them. I have developed three techniques, hoping to perfect at least one.”

Maddie withdrew, studying her partner’s every move. Florentina gripped the object horizontally in a curled hand with her thumb on top and her forefinger beneath it. Rotating her upper body from the waist, she drew her right arm back then spun, releasing the small weapon with the motion a child may use to toss a pie pan. The star whirled through the air at an astonishing speed until it lodged into the shoulder of one of the dummies. Florentina frowned. “A nuisance hit.”

“But you hit it!” Madelena exclaimed. Florentina continued to practice the move, thrusting at different targets and from varying angles, collecting the projectiles once all five had been expended.

“Semi-successful,” Fiore admitted. “Another way I have tried is a basic overhand throw.” She demonstrated by taking a star in her right hand, holding it vertically, and throwing it as one might a ball, rock, or piece of fruit. Her first attempt landed low on the target, so she adjusted the second by releasing it sooner, gaining better results. After dozens of pitches, Fiore returned to Maddie’s side. “The third method I’ve been trying is trickier, but has far greater potential. I’ll be at this a while if you want to curl up and take a nap.”

“What? And miss witnessing an act no Milanese woman has ever seen?” Maddie exclaimed. “But if you will point them in that direction,” she indicated, “I’ll sit back down over here for a while.” On impulse, she leaned in and kissed Fiore’s lips before retreating to her stool.

She has so much focus and intensity, Maddie contemplated. She is like a force of nature.


Author Bio

Edale Lane

Edale Lane is the author of an award winning 2019 debut novel, Heart of Sherwood. She is the alter-ego of author Melodie Romeo, (Tribute in Blood, Terror in Time, and others) who founded Past and Prologue Press. Both identities are qualified to write historical fiction by virtue of an MA in History and 24 years spent as a teacher, along with skill and dedication in regard to research. She is a successful author who also currently drives a tractor-trailer across the United States. A native of Vicksburg, MS, Edale (or Melodie as the case may be) is also a musician who loves animals, gardening, and nature.

Author Website: https://pastandprologuepress.lpages.co/

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