Release Blitz + Giveaway: Ice Angels by Ryan Taylor and Joshua Harwood

Author duo Ryan Taylor and Joshua Harwood, along with Indigo Marketing, return to share new holiday romance info on Ice Angels! Read more about the hockey romance and enter in the giveaway!

Title: Ice Angels

Author: Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood

Publisher: Wainscott Press

Release Date: 10/29/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 200

Genre: Romance, Gay hockey romance, Gay holiday romance

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Drew and Cleevs love hockey, but they love each other more. How can the men find a way to save what matters most?

Todd Cleever and Drew Simon are crazy about each other. They started dating three years ago when “Cleevs” was a rookie defenseman for the Chicago Ice. Drew, the team’s captain, was a few years older than Cleevs. Both men were deep in the closet, but it didn’t take long for them to fall in love.

Cleevs was traded to the Bethesda Barracudas a year later, causing a heartbreaking separation. Ever since, they’ve skated around the problem with occasional stolen nights together and brief vacations under the guise of “friends,” but two years of living apart have taken their toll.

As the holiday approaches, Drew and Cleevs decide things have to change. Still, with their careers and two professional hockey teams in the way, how can they score the game-winning goal and save everything they cherish most?

If you like fierce love, a smallish age gap, exciting hockey, and a steely determination to make things work—not to mention enough steam to fog up all your windows and a fantastic HEA—this is the book for you. The novella contains about 43,000 words of sparkling holiday romance.


I arrived at the Hilton about three o’clock. Todd wasn’t due for another couple of hours, so I  took a shower and dressed in jeans and an Ice T-shirt. Afterward, I switched on the TV but was  too excited to be still, and I must have walked back and forth to the window a hundred times.  When the news came on, I settled into a chair to watch. Someone knocked on the door a few  minutes later.

Running over, I pulled it open, and there he was. Wearing a gray peacoat and matching  beanie, with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, Todd looked like a Hollywood heartthrob.  He broke into a crooked grin.

“Hey.” My breath had caught in my throat, and I couldn’t get anything else out. “Hey.”

My pulse raced as my sight and hearing went into overdrive. I couldn’t tear my eyes away  from him.

“Drew? You think I could come in?”

“Oh yeah.” I grinned and stepped aside. “Please.”

He rolled his suitcase in and set it and his messenger bag beside the dresser while I made  sure the door was locked. When I turned, he placed a finger on the tip of my nose and traced it  down to my lips. “You get more beautiful every time I see you.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

He reached for me, and I relaxed into the safety of his arms. The relief of being held was  profound. As a hockey player and captain of all my teams since high school, I’d always had to be

strong. Before I met Todd, as a closeted gay man, I rarely had hookups because there was too  much risk of being recognized. When I occasionally met up with someone, what we did wasn’t  about affection or support; it was about getting off.

“Love you, Drew.

“Oh, Todd.” I nibbled his lip, and when he hugged me tighter and kissed me, the heavy  burden of my loneliness fell away. I relaxed for the first time in a while.

“I’m happy you could come and spend the night,” he whispered between kisses. I leaned back to look at him. His face was flushed, and his eyes were already dark with  arousal. Sliding a hand up his back, I cupped his head. His mouth twitched as I moved in, and he  moaned softly when our lips touched. I pressed against him, not ready for the moment to end but  needing more.

Slowly, he glided his hands down my back to my butt, and we teased each other. When he  licked my lips and probed softly, I opened for him. His tongue reassured me somehow, and I  sucked it while my senses did somersaults. Hints of cedarwood and iris, mixed with his soft  musk, surrounded me. We were both hard, and a thrill flickered up my spine as we rubbed our  cocks together. Tiny, needy sounds filled the air while we enjoyed a taste of what was to come. I  pulled away, took his hand, and started toward the bed. “Come with me.” He didn’t move, and I turned to look at him.

“I should shower. It’s been a long day, and I’m not at my freshest.”

Taking a step forward, I gave him another kiss and whispered, “I like you this way,  remember? My sweaty D-man.”

He gulped a breath. “Lead on, then.”

We took our time undressing each other. When I removed Todd’s shirt, I gaped at his  impressive physique as always: brawny arms, massive pecs, and a rippling six-pack. A large  tattoo, a beautiful depiction of a wolf in the forest, ran from the nape of his neck to the middle of  his back. Todd said it symbolized loyalty and family, as well as a willingness to become  ferocious to protect what was dear to him. He’d told me he wanted to have one about us done on  his chest—over his heart—and we’d design it together when our relationship was no longer a  secret.

ICE ANGELS Copyright © 2021 Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood. All Rights Reserved.

Purchase at Amazon or BookBub

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.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail | Instagram | BookBub



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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Nautilus Than Perfect (Sucker for Love Mysteries #4) by K.L. Hiers

Like tentacles? Check out today's release blitz from author K.L. Hiers and Gay Book Promotions for Nautilus Than Perfect (Sucker for Love Mysteries #4)! Discover more and enter in the giveaway!


Book Title: Nautilus Than Perfect (Sucker for Love Mysteries, Book 4)

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Tiferet Design

Release Date: October 26, 2021

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Tropes: False Start, Unrequited Love (Or Is It?), Pining For Your Partner, Office Romance

Themes: Love Conquers All

Heat Rating: 5 flames  

Length:  60 000 words / 200 pages

It is a standalone story, but the author recommends reading the previous books.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK 


Detective Elwood Q. Chase has ninety-nine problems, and the unexpected revelation that his partner is a god is only one of them.

Chase has been in love with Benjamin Merrick for years and has resigned himself to a life of unrequited pining. But when they run afoul of a strange cult, Merrick’s secret identity as Gordoth the Untouched slips out… and so do Chase’s feelings. The timing can’t be helped, but now Merrick thinks Chase only cares about him because he’s a god.

Even more unfortunately, it turns out the cultists want to perform a ritual to end the world. Chase’s mission to convince Merrick his feelings predate any divine revelations takes a back seat to a case tangled with murder and lies, but Chase doesn’t give up. Once he finds out there’s a chance Merrick feels the same way, he digs in his heels. Suddenly he’s trying to court a god and save the world at the same time. What could possibly go wrong?


“So,” Chase said, tiptoeing to the broken window and glancing outside, “is it true you guys had tentacle orgies? Was that really a thing?”

“You have discovered I am an ancient immortal, and that is the first thing you ask me?” Merrick actually laughed.

“Well, yeah.” Chase grinned. “Priorities.”

“There were many fertility celebrations,” Merrick replied. He sounded bashful. “It was common for worshippers to offer their bodies to us. Due to the nature of our anatomy, ahem, we can copulate with more than one mortal at a time.”

“So, orgies.”

“Of a religious nature.”

“By anatomy, do you mean what I think you mean?” Chase had quite the imagination, but he was dying to hear details.

“Most of the gods have multiple appendages for mating.” Merrick ducked his head. “Though we do not actually need a partner for reproduction.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Chase teased.

Merrick laughed, smiling again. “My father, Baub, personally spawned thirteen of us in all.”

“So you’ve got twelve siblings?”

“More still if you count my half brothers and sisters.” Merrick cocked his head. “You really do not know anything about the gods, do you.”

“No, not really,” Chase admitted. “I know some of the names, I know a few holidays, and uh, that’s about it. Definitely wanna hear more about the copulating.”

“Now you are being obscene.”

“What?” Chase grinned slyly. “I’m a heathen. I don’t know any better. Educate me.”

“No.” Merrick’s tone was firm, but he was smiling.

“Got it, you’re not an easy god. I respect that.” Chase winked. “Need to buy you dinner before you show me the tentacled goods.”

“Detective Chase!” Merrick’s eyes widened. “Are you… are you flirting with me?”

“Damn, you are a good detective.”

“That is not acceptable behavior,” Merrick scolded. “Is this because now you know I am a god, you expect me to be promiscuous?”

“What?” Chase huffed. “Come on.”

“I told you that I did not want this to affect our working relationship,” Merrick grumbled. “I expected better from you.”

“I’m joking, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, it is not funny,” Merrick continued to complain. “The nature of my intimate parts is not up for discussion.”

“For the record, I wanted to know all about your intimate parts before I found out you were a god,” Chase said honestly.

Merrick didn’t immediately respond, and he looked confused. “Are you referring to the clothing-optional invitation?”

“The one we’ve never, ever talked about?” Chase leaned against one of the desks. He didn’t see any point in hiding his feelings now. “Yeah, that one.”

“I am not here to partake in physical pleasures, no matter how tempting you may be.”

“Wait, tempting?” Chase couldn’t have heard him correctly. “You think I’m tempting?”

“Obviously,” Merrick huffed. “It is why I had to refuse your advances that night. I cannot allow myself to become distracted by your sensual sorcery.”

“Sensual what now?” Chase questioned if he was awake right now and almost pinched himself to check.

“It does not matter,” Merrick hissed impatiently. “You are my partner, and it would be detrimental to Merrick’s future in law enforcement to become sexually involved with a coworker.”

“Okay, the speaking in third person is weird—”

“Do not bring this up again,” Merrick snapped. “For my sake and Merrick’s, I must insist you stop right now. I cannot risk damaging his legacy over physical pleasures. I do not know how else I can refuse you and make you understand.”

“Listen to me,” Chase pleaded, a flicker of hope rekindling inside of him and spurring him on. “I never thought in a million years that you’d ever be into me! I didn’t have a clue! I don’t just want physical pleasures, okay? I’m sure that’s all super great with your tentacles and appendages or whatever, but I’m—”

“Detective Chase, please,” Merrick said firmly, holding up his hands for silence. He shook his head, his face contorting in pain. “Please stop.”

The words were right on the tip of Chase’s tongue.

But I’m in love with you, you big, beautiful idiot!

He couldn’t bring himself to say it, seeing how upset Merrick already was, and he fell silent. His mind was still reeling from learning that Merrick had found him attractive all of this time—What the hell was sensual sorcery anyway?—and he planned to ride that stroke to his ego and hold on to it for as long as he could.

It wasn’t a confession of undying affection, but it was much more than he ever thought he would have.

About the Author 

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.

Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |  Instagram  

Newsletter Sign-up  |  Patreon 


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Blog Tour: Hostile Takeover by Lucy Lennox

Author Lucy Lennox hosts a blog tour for new enemies to lovers romance, Hostile Takeover! Check it out today!


"An enemies-to-lovers thrill ride!” - Lauren Blakely, #1 New York Times bestselling author

Hostile Takeover, an all-new must-read enemies to lovers MM romance from Lucy Lennox is available now!

It was supposed to be a prank. A silly frat boy dare.

One hot moment in a hidden storage closet. One kiss. No consequences.

But if you get that close to a man with fire in his eyes, you’re gonna get burned, and I was no exception. One taste of Grey Blackwood ruined me for life.

The way Grey sees it, I was the one who did the ruining. I humiliated him. Wrecked his life. Destroyed his future.

Doesn’t matter that he’s clawed his way back and then some. Doesn’t matter that he’s already top of the Wall Street food chain. The man’s ruthless. Heartless. And he likes his revenge served cold.

Now he’s taking down the companies owned by every frat boy who did him wrong. And when he comes for my family’s company, the quiet life I’ve built for myself far away from Manhattan comes crumbling down, too.

But when Grey’s standing in our boardroom, threatening a hostile takeover and demanding I negotiate on behalf of my family, I don’t see an enemy. I see the chance I’ve been waiting for.

The chance for another night in his arms, and hopefully a whole lot more.

Let the negotiations begin.

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Within seconds, he’d pulled me down the hallway to a closed door. Once he opened it, I saw the storage room everyone talked about. Shelving reached all the way to the ceiling, and most of it was covered in pristine club hand towels folded into neat stacks. A large ice machine hummed in the corner, and right next to it was an old-fashioned water cooler.
Grey grabbed a paper water cup shaped like a cone from the stack on top of the water cooler and filled it before handing it to me. I sucked it down greedily, if only to get that godforsaken butterscotch flavor out of my mouth.
“Thanks,” I mumbled before moving forward to refill the cone. I brushed my shoulder against his chest as I stepped past him. Suddenly, the room seemed much smaller than it had before. The scent of coffee and laundry detergent surrounded me, but it was overlaid with the barest hint of apple shampoo.
I turned my head to see if that smell was coming from him, but at the same moment, he turned his head toward me to ask me something. The words died on his tongue as we found ourselves nose-to-nose. From this close, I could see his hair was hundreds of different shades of blond. A hank of it had fallen down over one eyebrow. It made him look vulnerable, unlike the proud man who seemed to have his shit together on the golf course and in class.
“Hi,” I breathed.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a weary voice. The air between us was thick and heavy. If I’d been any more sober, I would have chickened the fuck out and run out with my tail between my legs.
But I wasn’t sober.
“I just…I…”
“Ellison.” He spoke my name like a warning.
“You’re smart as shit,” I said stupidly.
“I know,” he replied, meeting my eyes in challenge.
“Why do you work here with all these rich assholes around you? It’s unbearable.”
His face widened in a reluctant grin. “Spoken by one of the selfsame rich assholes.”
I frowned, and Grey’s eyes followed the movement of my lips. My cock liked that. A lot.
“Why?” I repeated breathlessly.
“Good money, better connections. I want to be an investment banker, and the only way to do it well is to work for one of those rich assholes one day. The men in that room control eighty percent of the country’s investment capital. I want a piece of it.”
He cut me off with the barest brush of his lips against mine. It was so light, so nothing, he could have written it off as an accident, but it was enough of a spark to light the whole damned stack of fireworks between us.
I lunged for him with both hands, grabbing his face and smashing my mouth against his. He grunted at the impact, but then Grey’s arms came around to hold me tight while he kissed me back.
He kissed me back.
I could barely breathe. It wasn’t enough. My heart hammered in my chest with something like panic. What if he stopped? What if this all stopped and I couldn’t have it anymore? This awkward, grappling kiss was everything. Everything. And I knew right away it was only the beginning.
I wanted more. I wanted him. I wanted to be naked and ready for whatever came next. My dick was out of fucking control right now, and I couldn’t even figure out how to go about getting off. I just knew I wanted to get off with him. With Grey.

Meet Lucy Lennox

Lucy Lennox is finally putting good use to that English Lit degree earned way back in the 1900s.
She stays up way too late each night reading M/M romance because she is a sucker for a good story.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Writ in Blood by Julie Bozza

Author Julie Bozza and Other Worlds Ink host release blitz for queer western, Writ in Blood! Read more and enter in the Amazon gift card giveaway!

Writ in Blood - Julie Bozza

Julie Bozza has a new queer weird western book out: Writ in Blood. And there's a giveaway!

Courage. Honor. Loyalty. All fine things, but they’ve led John Ringo to kill a man. He was raised right and he knows he’s not a murderer, but otherwise he’s a mystery even to himself. Doc Holliday claims to have some insights, but Doc is too devoted to Wyatt Earp to spare much attention for the man who’s already lost his soul.

Which leaves Johnny Ringo prey to the distractions of a demon. Imaginary or not, if this creature abandons him, too, then surely his sanity is forfeit – and what will his life be worth then?

This Queer Weird West novel follows these three along the complex trails that lead into and out of Tombstone, Arizona in 1881.

Publisher | Amazon | <Amazon UK | <Amazon CAN | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Liminal Fiction | QueeRomance Ink | Smashwords | Universal Buy Link | Goodreads


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Writ in Blood meme

“And baths,” Doc Holliday was saying, standing tall in the center of their hotel room. “We are in desperate need of baths, and I apologize if you are already aware of that fact. Can you arrange that for us, my dear?”

“Of course, sir,” the girl replied, apparently awed by all this to-do. Holliday was behaving as if he were royalty. “The bathing room’s down the hall on the right, sir. There’s some water heating already, but if you can wait half an hour, sir, there’ll be plenty for both of you, and I’ll build the fire up. I can bring the pot of coffee you wanted right away.”

“Half an hour it is, then,” he declared, handing her a generous gratuity and ushering her out the door. Holliday turned to John. “What do you think, pilgrim? A fine room, considering its surroundings. Though I do believe this town will prove quite a rich lode. I can smell money in the air, and fools waiting to part with it.”

John let his saddlebags drop to the floor, looked around him at the lace curtains, at the porcelain jug and bowl standing before the mirror. At the wide bed with green padded silken spread. Everything looked fragile and ridiculously expensive and dangerously seductive. “And you reckon they won’t care about us both in the same bed?”

“Of course not, people do it all the time. There is a distinct shortage of beds out here in the West, especially in new towns such as this. We were lucky this room was available.”

“I guess I always figured if they said I’d have to share a room they were politely telling me to get lost.” It felt foolish now, having taken umbrage at something that was apparently quite accepted.

Holliday, in the midst of unpacking, cast a look at John. “Are you really one of those half-wild people who rarely visit a town?”

“No, but… maybe I’m more myself out there,” John said, indicating the world stretching beyond the outcropping of humanity. “This is... small –”

“I don’t find it so.”

“– and my earnings have been pretty irregular lately.”

“Don’t fret about that,” the man murmured.

“Who the hell are you, Holliday?” John demanded. “Is this your world? Because you sure seemed comfortable out in the wilderness last night.”

“You like that about me, that I belong in both?” He waited until John shrugged, then continued, “Well, if you do, why don’t you learn to belong here as well, and then you can like yourself for it, too. Share the luxury with me, Johnny. As you said, I shared the darkness with you last night.” The man smiled, walked over to stand before John, reached up to run a hand back through John’s hair. “There’s a handsome face hiding behind that long hair and the trail-dirt, I’ve already worked that out. Now, take your clothes off, pilgrim, and bathe with me. I want to see what those rags hide.” He leaned in close and whispered, “I’m sure you’re quite beautiful naked.” There was a knock at the door – and Holliday stole a kiss from John’s mouth.

John pushed the man away, glaring fury. Holliday let the girl in, and John waited impatiently as she arranged a tray of coffee and cups and a whole lot of unnecessary fixings, waited as Holliday chattered inanely with her. “You’re crazy,” John said once they were finally alone again. The man just laughed, at ease. In fact, it seemed he was enjoying himself immensely. “Are you always like this?” John asked, wondering how long he could suffer it.

“Oh yes,” Holliday said airily. “Well, actually I suppose I’m in unusually high spirits. I promised myself, for these couple of months, complete abandonment. And you do seem to be the kind of fellow I can completely abandon myself to...”

“Don’t talk like that, maybe people can hear us. And – what you did before she came in – if she caught us we’d get run out of town, if they didn’t hang us first.”

“Now there’s an ambition: to be so absolutely debauched we get thrown out of every town we visit. What’s the matter, pilgrim? With your reputation, you must be used to finding yourself unwelcome.”

“Yes, but for gunfights, not for something like that.”

“You don’t care about them, do you? Surely it doesn’t matter to you what they think.”

“No, but it’s personal, it’s private.” Under Holliday’s interested gaze John shrugged again, uncomfortable.

Smart enough to change the subject at last, Holliday headed for the coffee and began pouring two cups. “How do you want it, pilgrim? Let me guess... you like it just as it is. Now, I like coffee with cream and sugar – though they only have milk here, I’m afraid – but that’s too civilized for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said. Holliday brought one of the cups over, and John eyed it dubiously. The thing looked so delicate it might shatter in his hands, though of course it looked quite safe in Holliday’s fine fingers.

“Take it, pilgrim. It’s either this lovely little cup, or drink straight from the pot.” Holliday laughed. “But you would, wouldn’t you? Don’t let me give you ideas.”

John quickly swallowed the coffee, felt the heat of it spread through his chest and the strength of it clear his head. He poured himself another cup, then sat cross-legged on the floor, pointedly ignoring the chair opposite the one Holliday sat in – avoiding even the rugs. The wooden floorboards, though polished, were the most natural part of the room.

They sat in silence for a while, finishing the pot of coffee between them. Then Holliday asked, “Where were you from before Texas? You don’t speak like a Texan.”

“California before that. We traveled west from Missouri. Before that, Indiana.”

“And before that?”

“My family?” John shrugged – but such things had mattered in Mason County, when it was the newer German immigrants versus the longer-settled Americans. “The Dutch part of Belgium, if you go back far enough, but that never made no difference to me.”

“I see…” was the response. However, Holliday didn’t ponder on it long. Instead he sat up as if about to stand, saying, “Let’s inspect the bathing room. I haven’t felt clean for a couple of weeks now, and tonight I want to make the best possible impression.” Perhaps he saw John’s reluctance, for he said, “I suppose from the look of you, my dear, that your ablutions involve jumping in a river once a year whether you need it or not. But would you indulge me? I like that you are so vivid to all five of my senses, that you assault me so thoroughly, but I’d like to see your handsomeness as well as your wildness.”

“Don’t call me ‘dear’,” John said sullenly. “I’m not made for words like that. I don’t know what you want from me, Holliday, but I’m not your dear.”

“We just fuck, yes, and keep each other company between our amorous bouts. But don’t mind me if I treat you affectionately.” The man confided, “Most of the time, I promise you I don’t mean a word of it.”

Author Bio

Julie Bozza

Ordinary people are extraordinary. We can all aspire to decency, generosity, respect, honesty – and the power of love (all kinds of love!) can help us grow into our best selves.

I write stories about ‘ordinary’ people finding their answers in themselves and each other. I write about friends and lovers, and the families we create for ourselves. I explore the depth and the meaning, the fun and the possibilities, in ‘everyday’ experiences and relationships. I believe that embodying these things is how we can live our lives more fully.

Creative works help us each find our own clarity and our own joy. Readers bring their hearts and souls to reading, just as authors bring their hearts and souls to writing – and together we make a whole.

And that’s me! Julie Bozza. Quirky. Queer. Sincere.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Dream Demon by Samantha Cayto

Author Samantha Cayto and Pride Publishing share info on new paranormal release, Dream Demon! Learn more about the novella and enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!

Dream Demon By Samantha Cayto

General Release Date: 26th October 2021

Word Count: 33,173
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 123



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Book Description

Sometimes nightmares turn into dreams come true.

Colby is new to the BDSM scene and longs for a Master to take control and show him the pleasure that can be found in pain. When he receives a Halloween invitation to play from a mysterious man, he takes the risk of delving into an unknown world.

Sebastian is a blood demon masquerading as a human Dom. Unlike others of his kind, he strives to fill his need ethically instead of preying on humans. He seeks consent to satisfy his urges and knows how to woo Colby with patience. The only thing he fears is whether or not his new sub will be able to accept him as he truly is.

Trusting Sebastian is easy, even as Colby’s dreams are plagued by an unknown shadow that attracts him as much as it scares him. Sebastian needs to build trust before revealing his true nature. He thinks he has all the time he wants, but he’s about to learn that even demons cannot control their fate.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of blood, pain and wax play.


The creature gained on him. As Colby dashed through the winding, narrow alleys, the sound of the steady, measured steps behind him grew louder. No matter how fast he ran, his heart thumping, his breath labored, his pursuer grew closer, not farther away. He bit back a whimper, determined not to show the terror that wanted to scream out. There was nowhere to escape to, no end to the twisting path he traveled. He would not make it. He would be caught. Then what? A shiver racked his body. Pain with a hit of pleasure weaved within. That reaction scared him more than anything else. He strained to run faster. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as hot breath wafted over him. The scent of it should have been repulsive, fetid and evil, yet it wasn’t. It smelled exotic, like toasted spices for mulled wine. Instead of shivering with fear, he felt almost cocooned in some safe, warm place—with a spike of arousal. It made no sense.

What is wrong with me?

Colby bolted up into a sitting position, his breath caught and pain lanced through his chest. His heart pounded in a skipping tattoo that scared him into thinking he might be having a heart attack. He rubbed his palm over his sweat-coated pec and tried to rein in his breathing. Just a dream. Just a dream. That reassurance wasn’t enough to calm his body. Logic and truth be damned. The dream had felt so real and vivid, both the fright and the excitement. The evidence of the conflicting effects was on display. Below his ribcage against which his heart knocked, the twisted bedsheet was tented by his cock. That was nothing new. It was how he woke every morning—hard. But he wasn’t usually so achingly so, his balls cramping with the need for release.

Instead of waiting to deal with his dick in the shower, Colby wriggled his hand under the covers and clasped the shaft with clammy fingers. A few quick tugs had him coming with such force that he doubled over. Fragments from his dream danced inside his head as he worked his cock, goosing the pleasure and forcing him to stifle a moan. He didn’t want his roommate to hear—not that Marquis would care. Colby had never met anyone less inhibited than him. He could hear Marquis puttering in the kitchen, the apartment being small. If it were summer, the guy would be buck-naked, wearing only an apron to protect his precious assets. Colby was different, though. He couldn’t quite shake all the primness of his Midwestern upbringing.

Besides, it was almost shameful how aroused he’d been. Although he’d worked hard to accept his submissive and masochistic needs as nothing to feel guilty about, something about how he’d almost welcomed the nameless, faceless thing that had chased him in his dreams brought back those early feelings of remorse. BDSM was a consensual and often loving form of play. There wasn’t supposed to be real fear. Doms weren’t truly predatory, and yet…whoever had chased him in his dreams was different from any man he’d ever seen playing with ecstatic subs. There had been a menace that he’d instinctively felt and fled from. He should have only wanted to escape, but part of him had wanted to be caught.

“It’s just Halloween,” Colby muttered.

The pseudo-holiday had been a verboten day in his childhood, an alarming celebration of the devil and all that was evil. His family had prayed for those foolish people who thought it was a silly night for dress-up and getting free candy. For him, however, it was liberation day. Six months ago, he’d finally come out of the one remaining closet in his life and had declared that he was a masochistic sub yearning for a Master to take firm control of him. He’d spent an amazing night in the one local dungeon in the Boston area, watching others play and longing to join them—not that he’d had the courage to approach any of the enticing men dressed in black leather… They’d all been occupied with boys of their own. It had still been thrilling. Too bad they weren’t holding another open house this night. Things might have been different. As it was, he hoped to find some similar fun being held somewhere—or perhaps if he dressed in the clothing he’d purchased a few days ago at a sex shop, he might attract the right kind of man.

“Yeah, right. As if you’ve gotten any braver over the summer.”

The self-admonishment chased away the last remnants of his dream. Colby untangled himself from the sheet and stripped it off the bed before heading to the bathroom. He stuffed the soiled bedding in the hamper and hopped into the shower. That hot spray beating down perked him up and he would have loved to have lingered there. But water cost money and he and Marquis had precious little, so, he washed quickly and got out.

Wiping away the condensation on the mirror, he stared at his own reflection. Even wet, his nearly white-blond hair color was visible, and there was still a smattering of freckles on his pale cheekbones. Marquis had said when they’d first met that Colby was the whitest white boy he’d ever seen. There was no denying that, but Colby also knew that he was prettier than perhaps a boy should be. Certainly the bullies back home had thought so, jeering at him while they’d tried to push his face into their laps. It’ll be just like having a girl blow me, the instigator had said to be clear that, unlike Coby, he wasn’t gay. The taunting echoed in Colby’s head as it did from time-to-time, even though he was miles away from that life and comfortable in his own skin now. And he’d escaped—that assault and others, the endless praying of the congregation trying to make him ‘right’ with the Lord, as well as his family’s condemnation. He was an adult, living on his own and making the rules by which he lived. Looking back accomplished nothing.

He returned to his literal closet of a room and threw on jeans and an old sweater. The apartment was chilly. Heat was another expense they had to manage and growing up on a Nebraska farm meant that he could handle the cold. Marquis, poor guy, would be miserable for the next six months. Following delicious smells, Colby found his roommate plating up breakfast.

“Is that French toast?” Perhaps the smell of cinnamon had influenced his dream. Yeah, that’s it. Appreciation for his friend’s cooking had infiltrated the more menacing aspects of his visions.

Marquis put the plates on the counter that separated the galley kitchen from the rest of the room that served as their communal living space. “What can I say? I woke up with a fierce taste for it.”

Colby poured a mug of coffee, laced it with a cheap cream substitute and sat in his usual spot. He downed half of his coffee before forking a piece of his meal. “Hmm, thanks. This will fortify me for work and keep away the temptation to get something there.” He had a late afternoon shift at the coffee house he worked in, and even with his employee discount, the pastries cost more than he could budget for.

Marquis joined him. “Yeah well, I’m due at the gym in an hour. I’m going to have to get in some extra workout time of my own if I want to keep this off my hips. No one likes seeing a chunky guy mixing their healthy smoothies.”

Colby snorted. As thin as he was, Marquis was even more so without even trying that hard. A few pieces of French toast weren’t going to change that. “And I should go for a run before starting my shift.” He wouldn’t be done until closing at ten at night, and there was no way he wanted to run by himself so late. The South End of Boston was a pretty safe neighborhood, but still…

“Mm-m.” Marquis gestured toward the front door with his mouth full. After swallowing, he said, “I got the mail earlier and there’s something interesting for you.”

“Me?” Colby frowned. The only mail he got was junk. His bills were paperless, and no one wrote to him…ever.

“Yup, I was tempted to open it myself. If it’s junk, someone spent a lot on it.”

Curiosity had him leaving his delicious breakfast and going to the small table where they put the mail. He spotted the envelope immediately. It was black and thick, with gold lettering in a fancy script with his name and address clearly written. It was obviously for him unless some other Colby Taylor had lived in this very apartment at some point. He reached for it, then paused. A strange feeling stole over him, as if he were about to take some monumental step—that once he opened this letter, his life would never be the same.


He snatched up the envelope before he could think any more of it and flipped it over. The back flap was sealed in an old-fashioned way with black wax and short red ribbons dangling below. A stylized S and R were embossed within the wax. Colby held it close to his face to study the unusual markings. As he stared at them, he felt as if he were falling into some dark tunnel, being pulled into the seal, into the envelope itself. His world tilted for just a second before he blinked the feeling away and took a deep breath to ground himself.

Too much caffeine, too quickly, that’s all.

“What’s it say?” Marquis’ impatient voice called from the counter.

Colby broke the seal quickly before he could think better of it and pulled out a stiff invitation written in blood-red ink on cream paper bordered in black.

Mister Colby William Taylor,

You are hereby invited to play at a party, to be held at the Mayflower Dungeon this All Hallows’ Eve at 9 p.m. Dress optional

Come if you dare

Sebastian Reeves

There was no address given. Then again, there didn’t need to be. He knew where to find the place. His heart pounded, much as it had in the aftermath of his dream. The French toast sat heavy on his now slightly queasy stomach. But that wasn’t the only reaction to seeing the invitation. His dick had hardened instantly, pressing painfully against his fly with aching balls, as if he hadn’t come a mere fifteen minutes before. His hands shook slightly as he grasped the card and the envelope fluttered to the floor.

“Come on. What’s it say?” Marquis snatched the invitation from Colby and whistled. “Holy shit! Isn’t this the place you went last April?” When Colby could only nod, his roommate gave him a sly smile. “You didn’t tell me you made a friend there.”

Colby blinked slowly. “I didn’t. I-I just watched. I don’t know who this guy is or why he’d send me an invitation to play.” He remembered something. “Oh, I did give my contact information, because you can’t get in without filling out a waiver. I never heard from them, and I didn’t expect to.” The prices for joining the club were too steep for him, so it had been a relief not to get solicitations in the months since. There was no sense in torturing himself—ha ha—with something he couldn’t have.

“You must have met this Reeves guy. Why else would he invite you?” Marquis pressed.

Colby shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Other than the man at the entrance, I didn’t speak to anyone. I have no idea who he is.”

Marquis handed him back the invitation. “Huh. Well, you obviously made an impression on this dude. I can’t imagine why it would take months to contact you, though. Maybe he just got out of a relationship or he’s a Halloween freak.”

“Is there such a thing? I mean, is it a fetish or something?” There was a lot about the world of BDSM that Colby still didn’t know about.

His roommate shrugged. “How would I know? But isn’t there a fetish for everything? What are you going to wear?”

Colby frowned. “I’m not sure I’m going.” As tempting as it was to check out the party, there was a distant alarm bell ringing inside his head.

“Seriously? I thought this was your jam. Why wouldn’t you?” Marquis stooped to sweep the envelope off the floor and waved it in front of Colby’s face. “And this takes bank. I bet the dude’s from Beacon Hill or one of the flush suburbs. It couldn’t hurt to have a rich boyfriend.”

“Oh, please. You know I’m not looking for a sugar-daddy.” But he was looking for a play partner, if only for one night. His cock pulsed at the idea of finally being under a man’s control and feeling the exquisite pleasure of pain inflicted by someone who knew what they were doing.

'Oh please’, yourself,” Marquis scoffed. “Aren’t you the one longing for a husband and a dog in some nice condo around here?”

Colby smacked the guy in the arm without any heat. “That’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it? In those dreams of yours, do you still sling lattes for minimum wage and measly tips? Just because he’s put a ring on it, doesn’t mean he isn’t a sugar-daddy.”

“You’re such a cynic.” Even as he laid the charge against his friend, Colby had to admit there was truth in it. When he thought about his future, the idea of kneeling and taking punishment in a home that Colby kept for his Master made his heart stutter with joy.

“I’m not sure I’m going,” he reiterated, even though, before the last word was out of his mouth, he knew that was a lie.

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About the Author

Samantha Cayto

Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever. 

She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don't understand why they can't read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.


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Notice: This competition ends on 2nd November 2021 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.


Review: The Lights on Knockbridge Lane (Garnet Run #3) by Roan Parrish

Can one man’s crowded, messy life fill another man’s empty heart?

Raising a family was always Adam Mills’ dream, although solo parenting and moving back to tiny Garnet Run certainly were not. After a messy breakup, Adam is doing his best to give his young daughter the life she deserves—including accepting help from their new, reclusive neighbor to fulfill her Christmas wish.

Though the little house may not have “the most lights ever,” the Mills home begins to brighten as handsome Wes Mobray spends more time there and slowly sheds his protective layers. But when the eye-catching house ends up in the news, Wes has to make a choice: hide from the darkness of his unusual past or embrace the light of a future—and a family—with Adam.

Is October too early to bake some sugar cookies, make some hot cocoa, and throw on a Hallmark Christmas movie? Because that’s exactly what this book made me want to do!

‘The Lights on Knocksbridge Lane’ introduces readers to young father Adam and his daughter Gus, as they start a new life in Adam’s old hometown. Moving on from a failed relationship and with a tight budget, Adam is determined to make Gus’ Christmas magical.

One of their new neighbours is reclusive Wes. He likes his solitary and orderly life, his experiments, and his unconventional pets. But Gus barges right in with her curiosity, dragging her apprehensive dad with her.

This is a very kid-centric book. Gus, who loves science and animals of the scaly or eight-legged kind, sets out to make Wes her friend, bringing Adam and Wes together as a result. So be ready for a precocious child with lots of questions!

The early interactions between Adam and Wes were funny. Wes being grumpy and standoffish, and Adam apologetic and slightly (very) scared by Wes’ strange animals.

But despite that, the spark is there. Adam can’t help crushing on the brooding man, and Wes is drawn to Adam’s light.

Or lights, in this case, as Wes gets roped in with Adam’s plan to illuminate their new house in strings of Christmas lights for Gus.


I thoroughly enjoyed every sweet moment between Gus, Adam, and Wes. Maybe it was a bit overly Hallmark-y, but I was digging it!

Especially seeing Adam and Wes slowly giving in to the tension between them. This isn’t a particularly steamy read, but the connection between the two men is palpable.

And much more importantly, the two find someone else to lean on, and learn to let their guards down. It’s a quiet, sweet, and adorable love.

The other shoe does drop eventually, but they make it to the other side just fine, a happy family of three (+ Wes’ strange pets).

If you’re looking to get into the holiday spirit (even before Halloween!), definitely give ‘The Lights on Knockbridge Lane’ a read!

A copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

Release Blitz: EXHALE (London Love #1.5) by Sophia Soames

The latest from the popular series, EXHALE (London Love #1.5) is out! Check out the promotion from author Sophia Soames and Gay Book Promotions!


Book Title: EXHALE (London Love 1.5)

Author: Sophia Soames

Publisher: Self Published

Cover Artist: Christina Stern

Release Date: October 25, 2021

Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes:  Instalove, First Date 

Themes:  Fairytale sweetness

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 29 000 words

It is a standalone story, but best enjoyed if you have read Breathe first.


Buy Links for EXHALE - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

A sweet tale of figuring out that the future isn’t always straight.


What do you do when your relationship falls apart? Well, you bury yourself in a deep hole of grief, one you have so carelessly dug for yourself. Jamie Walters needs to find a way out of the mess his life has become, but the way forward is not as straight as he thought it would have been. What's the point anyway? Women are off the menu but Jamie still wants the entire textbook fairy-tale. The romantic dates and the flowers and holding hands in the dark, and Grindr certainly isn't the place to find your happily ever after..

Catch up with Jamie and the rest of the Walters family in this sweet little insta-love fairy-tale where Jamie finally gets his happily ever after, Originally published as part of the Love is All Anthology, Exhale has been reedited and extended to the quirky little fairy-tale it was always meant to be.

Exhale is a standalone novella but is best enjoyed after reading Breathe.

Trigger warningsBrief mention of pregnancy loss.

BREATHE - 99c Promo Offer

Also Available in Kindle Unlimited 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Pre-Order Links for TASTE 

Releasing on November 1, 2021

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Excerpt from EXHALE

“No, no, I’m not a virgin.” I dug my hands into my pockets. “I mean, I’ve hooked up with people before. I’ve had sex. It’s just, it never leads anywhere…”

And I was off again, jabbering so fast the cigarette flew from my lips and almost rolled off the platform. I didn’t know where to look as my mouth kept blurting more nonsense. I couldn’t look at him. Fuck. Talk about embarrassing. How did people do this? How did they get over themselves? I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

“…either they never call again, or they leave before we even get our clothes off. I’m just…hopeless at everything, apparently.” I rounded up my little Ted Talk, picked up the cigarette, then stood there not knowing what to do with it. I didn’t want to put the damn thing back in my mouth. There was no bin. Fuck my life.

Why the hell had I told him all that? Really, Leo?

Leo, Leo mon enfant terrible. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head, scolding me for my stupidity, although she’d probably have been laughing too much to tell me off. She’d moved back to France a few years ago, taken a lover, and then another. She was the queen of hook-ups. I had no idea where she met these men, but they were a new constant in her life—something she didn’t have when I was growing up. It had been just her and me back then, and we’d lived well. Stable. I’d had a good childhood, I honestly couldn’t complain. But there had been no one in my mother’s life and she’d obviously been lonely. Now she wasn’t. She was happily shagging around like a teenager, and secretly, I loved that she did. I loved that she was having fun. At least one of us was.

“Why am I intimidating?” he asked, shuffling his feet. “I don’t mean to be. We don’t have to do anything. We can just go for a coffee if you want?”

“I don’t like coffee,” I muttered like a petulant child. “Look, I’m French, and obviously wired wrong because I’m both lactose and gluten intolerant and I don’t like coffee. So, all that bread and cheese shit is out—”

“You don’t sound French.”

“Grew up here, didn’t I?”


“Yeah. That’s why I have a crap name. Leo Jacques Leblond.”

“I think your name’s great.”

“Try spelling it every time you give it to someone on the phone. It’s annoying.”

“Hmm.” He was staring at me again, like he had the world at his booted feet. Doc Martens, for fuck’s sake. All polished up and fully visible below his too-short, chequered trousers. He had some ripped, multicoloured rock band T-shirt showing underneath a knitted cardigan, the look completed by a super-cool, vintage long coat. Like some emo. Or not. He wasn’t wearing black but a mixture of beiges and reds. And a bright-blue rucksack. Nothing matched, yet… Yeah. Vogue called. They want their cover model back. The pretty one with the weird clothes.

He was talking again, and I’d totally zoned out.

“…and I said to myself, life is too short. So, I want to do this if you’re still up for it. But maybe do it right, kind of just hang out and get to know each other.”

“I want to have sex,” I stated. Why couldn’t I ever control my mouth?

“I’m totally up for that.” He grinned from under his curls. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it? But we’ve been standing here talking for a bit, and it’s nice, and you’re nice, and I’m sure Costa Coffee over there do gluten-free biscuits, and I’ll buy you a bottle of water or whatever your poison is. I just need to sit down and get my head in gear because this is kind of freaky. I’ve never done anything like this before. To be honest, I’m a little weirded out, and now here I am—”

“On some dodgy council estate, meeting up with a dude who’s probably a drug dealer and will have you beaten up in a minute.”

“I hope not!” He laughed, and the world became a little brighter. “Are you a drug dealer?”

“No,” I giggled back. “I promise you. I’m a dull uni student, and I live in a tiny student flat. I haven’t got much to show for myself, but perhaps one day, I’ll have a nice job and a better place to live. That’s my plan. I want to teach French. Or perhaps move to Paris for a while, find my roots.”

“Don’t move to Paris. I’ll never see you again.”

I couldn’t tell if he was serious, so I joked, “You might not want to once you’ve seen me naked.”

He blushed, and it was the cutest thing ever.

“You’re desperate for this coffee thing, huh?”

“Just to clear my head,” he said again. He sounded a little defeated, but I was grateful for a plan that didn’t involve taking him home. I wasn’t sure I could deal with that right now, however much I liked the idea of seeing him naked.

“Come on. Let’s go get you a large coffee—”

“I prefer espresso.”

“You sound like one of those posh kids,” I teased. I couldn’t help myself.

“Maybe once upon a time, I was posh. Not anymore. I still live at home with my siblings in a rundown council terrace in Thorpeton Green, and not the posh part. Like, backstreet-dump Thorpeton, near the industrial estate under the M4.”

“Working-class posh,” I blabbed on. “You look posh, you talk posh, and you look like you just stepped out of a fashion shoot.”

I regretted it even before I finished speaking because now he really looked freaked out, my beautiful, gorgeous man. I wondered how people survived having a partner who looked like him. I mean, he would be with someone amazing one day. Probably some big, rich, muscle bear of a man who would love him and spoil him, while I would be stuck alone in my dingy flat, dreaming of him. I was already jealous of the imaginary rich boyfriend, the one he would love forever.

“You’re deranged,” he said, smirking at me. I sighed, fiddling with my fingers. I’d heard that one before. Then he reached out and grabbed my sleeve. Tugged at me. Smiled as he led me down the steps towards the road. I followed him, thinking at that moment, I would have followed him anywhere. Blindly, desperately and, I think, a little bit in love.

About the Author 

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Find me on social media @sophiasoames on all platforms

Christina Stern is a Russian based artist. Quick sketches and portraits drawn in pencil are what she likes to do the most. Her work can be found on @christinastern on Instagram

Aurelia Morris is a cover artist, photographer, Photoshop wiz and eternal fangirl. She works in many mediums under more aliases that she can keep track of.

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