Blog Tour + Giveaway: Dark Fate (Flame Born #2) by Kat Silver


 Author Kat Silver and Gay Book Promotion return with a tour visit for the latest urban fantasy release from popular series, Dark Fate (Flame Born #2)! Read more about the romance and enter in the giveaway for a chance to win a signed copy of Dark Flame and a $30 Amazon Gift Voucher!

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Dark Fate: An MM urban fantasy romance (Flame Born Book 2)

Author: Kat Silver

Publisher: Kat Silver

Cover Artist: Bookfly

Release Date: November 12, 2021

Genres: Urban fantasy romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers 

Themes: Self-discovery and empowerment, finding home, freedom, good vs evil

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 117 000 words

It is not a standalone book, but part of a series (Flame Born Book 2)

This story ends on a satisfying cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Torn between finding answers and escaping chains, can Michael trust his werewolf lover or is the devious vampire prince the only one truly on his side?

Blurb 

“And if I am a monster? Will you want me then?” 

Ten days after the battle at Blackriver, Michael struggles with new forbidden desires, with his rampant Flame, and a deepening relationship with the taciturn werewolf, Commander Gabriel Flanagan.

Feeling responsible for their loss, Michael longs to rescue the students stolen by the manipulative vampire prince, Alexei Vasiliev. But the High Council refuses to free Michael from his chains. They fear the whisperer — the half-breed who decimated an entire company of soldiers and came back from the dead. Yet, Michael still yearns for a future among the Guardians. For a place beside his Finnish, silver-eyed giant. For a home within the crazy supernatural world he’s now bound to. 

But does Michael still have a future? He’s a descendent of the Warlock — from a bloodline that produces only monsters. If discovered, not even his protective lover can save him from certain execution. He may not want to.

Dark Fate is the second book in the Flame Born series. This MM urban fantasy/paranormal romance is action packed, featuring steaming hot scenes, a hunk of an alpha love interest, a chocolate scented snarky vampire prince, a clever best friend who can kill a man with her little finger, and one too many shady characters to count. See inside for trigger warnings on both books. 

Excerpt

I grip the sink edge, knuckles white, and glare at the contents of the glass vial lying beside the tap. The viscous liquid, the color of a fine bottled wine, looks so innocuous. Innocent. A random sample of blood.

There’s nothing innocent about this vial’s contents.

Every time I see it, my mouth salivates with the need for a taste. Whenever I take the vial from my pocket to caress the cool glass in my hand, a clamoring monster of desire rips through me like a fire.

Not this time.

I swipe up the tube, twist out the cork, and prepare to pour the blood away. Metal clanks against ceramic, echoing through the small bathroom, as the chain between my wrist manacles knocks the sink. A heady smell of cocoa and figs hits my nostrils. My hand falters. God, that scent.

His scent.

An urgency to inhale the smell deep into my lungs, to press the glass into my lips and lick the rim, almost takes control. 

Alexei. That devious vampire. He knew exactly what he was doing when he left me with this. His blood constantly tugs at me like an unfinished song. Like a broken tooth my tongue won’t leave alone.

I could wash temptation away. Watch clear water turn burgundy as the vile substance slides into the drain.

I won’t.

I’ve faced this trial for ten days, and the result never changes.

I’ve tried to show the vial to Flanagan. Tried to hand it over so he can smash the glass and destroy the contents. Somehow, it always returns to my hiding places. A dirty secret.

About the Author 

I’m a simple northern English lass with an addiction to writing, as well as all things romance. Also addicted to cats, cat videos, and anything with, you know, cats in it. And there's chocolate, and tea, coffee too, and rainy Sundays. Okay, I have many addictions. But my first love has always been story in all its forms, from movies to books to anecdotes told over a beer at the local pub. If we're sharing a story, I'm all ears. And if it's fantasy with sexy heroes and vampires and lots of angsty luuurve, I'm probably drooling. Come in, pour yourself a tea, and kick your shoes off. Let me tell you a story.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Facebook Group  |  Twitter

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  BookBub

Giveaway 

Enter the King Sumo Giveaway

for a chance to win 

a signed copy of Dark Flame and a $30 Amazon Gift Voucher

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Safe Harbour (Jagged Shores #2) by Thom Collins


Join author Thom Collins and Pride Publishing in celebrating the suspenseful new release, Safe Harbour (Jagged Shores #2)! Find out more and enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!

Safe Harbour by Thom Collins

Word Count: 58,382
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 229

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

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Book Description

 

Two lovers seek shelter in a storm of jealousy and passion.

Matt arrives in the seaside town of Nyemouth for a much-needed vacation. As a successful lawyer, Matt has a hectic career, and with an ex-husband still pestering him for money, he is long overdue a break. A holiday home perched above the town and its breath-taking harbour seems like the perfect place to unwind. Matt can’t wait to explore the beautiful, jagged shorelines and lose himself for a couple of weeks.

Jake has made a home in Nyemouth. After growing up in the city, living on the coast is everything to him. Running a business with his sister and volunteering on the crew of the local lifeboat, he is exactly where he wants to be. But Jake’s life is far from peaceful. Though he left his domineering husband Vince a year ago, Vince refuses to consent to a divorce or loosen his controlling hold on Jake.

On Matt’s first night in town, he encounters the couple having a blazing row. When Vince turns violent, Matt intervenes and takes Jake inside to escape his angry ex. Despite what happened, Matt feels a powerful attraction to the younger man. Jake is bright, endearing and unbelievably attractive, but the young man’s life is complicated. Matt already has enough problems of his own. He came away looking for an escape, not a starry-eyed distraction. As Matt and Jake get to know each other better, the gamble on a holiday romance becomes hard for either of them to resist. They have both been unlucky in love before. Maybe this time will be different.

Vince will not be shaken off so easily. He has no intention of letting Jake go…ever. As Matt’s and Jake’s emotions deepen, they do not understand how far Vince will take things to keep his husband. As far as Vince is concerned, they made a vow to each other… “till death do us part.”

Reader advisory: This story contains stalking and assault, physical and emotional spousal abuse, attempted murder with a firearm and references to abusive parenting and substance additions.

Excerpt

“Will you be staying long in town?” the shop assistant asked as he ran items through the till.

“Two weeks,” Matt Ramsey replied.

“Really?” The assistant, a pleasant-looking man in his fifties, didn’t look up from what he was doing. “It’s a small place to spend such a long amount of time. Won’t you get bored?”

“I doubt it. I want to use Nyemouth as a base to explore the local area—country walks, coastal trails, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, then you’ll find plenty to keep you busy. There are some stunning locations nearby, both up and down the coast.”

Matt smiled. He’d already done extensive research into this area of Northumberland. He’d visited here a couple of times before, just for the day, and it was a place he’d always wanted to discover further. With two weeks ahead of him and no other commitments, there would never be a better time.

He had finished work at five p.m. promptly and got straight into his car. Despite the Friday evening traffic, he’d made good time on the journey from York to Nyemouth, arriving at the holiday home just before seven-thirty. The old man who lived next door, a friendly guy called Jacob, had greeted him at the door with the keys and given him a quick rundown on the property and what he could find in town. Matt had left home without picking up supplies, and Jacob directed him to the small shop near the marina, less than ten minutes from the house, where he could get all he would need to see him through the next few days. Matt had thanked him and hurried down to the store.

He intended to get a takeaway for dinner tonight, but picked up bread, eggs, bacon, milk and tea bags for breakfast. He also bought three bottles of red wine, a bottle of dark rum and two litres of Diet Coke. It was his intention to eat out as much as possible while he was there, but he wanted to have some alcohol in for the times he came home late, so he could unwind in the comfort of the beautiful house that looked down on the marina and the mouth of the river.

“Have you lived here long?” he asked the cashier as he paid for his shopping.

“All my life,” the man said, sounding proud. “I know I knock the place for being small and there’s not a lot to do here out of season, but I do love it. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

Matt nodded. “Even in the winter, I imagine it’s still a lovely place to be.”

The man gave a good-natured laugh. “Come back in February when there’s a seventy-mile-per-hour gale coming in from the North Sea and see if you feel the same.”

“If the next fortnight goes well, I might just do that.”

“Well, if you do, I’ll be here.” He handed over the two bags of groceries. “Enjoy your stay. Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

Matt thanked him and left the shop.

That evening, it was difficult to imagine the brutal winter conditions the shopkeeper had spoken of. It was coming up to nine o’clock and the clear sky was deepening into shades of lapis and blueberry, marred by just a few wisps of cloud, high in the atmosphere. The perfect sky was mirrored on the still water of the harbour. The fishing fleet was home for the night, the boats lying motionless in their moorings.

There were a lot of people milling around the marina, couples and families enjoying the mild July weather. The bars and restaurants along the waterfront had set tables outside and looked to be doing a good trade. Matt had heard great things about The Lobster Pot, a bar-come-restaurant in the heart of the bay, and intended to treat himself to at least one good meal there during his stay—maybe one night next week when it wasn’t so busy.

He walked across the harbour, passing by the lifeboat station, towards the footpath back up to the house on South Bank Terrace.

Nyemouth’s lifeboat had made worldwide news the past summer when it was involved in the frantic rescue of the actor Arnie Walker and his young son. The publicity afterwards had brought hordes of tourists to the small seaside town. When Matt had been searching for a place in Northumberland to stay for his summer holiday, he’d almost discounted Nyemouth, remembering the scenes of chaos he’d seen on the news less than a year before. He wanted somewhere peaceful as a base for his hiking trips, and the interest Arnie’s rescue had created for the town made it far from ideal.

Matt had done some extra research and, while it was true that Nyemouth was now on the map as a major tourist attraction, the initial ghoulish interest people had taken in it had settled down, although he’d read that Arnie Walker was now a permanent resident here with a home on the north bank of the river. When Matt had discovered a house on the south side was available for the dates he required, those niggling concerns had disappeared.

Now he was here, breathing in the fresh sea air, and he knew he’d made the right choice.

At thirty-nine, Matt had no qualms about going on holiday by himself. He was a free man, able to do what he wanted and pursue his own interests without having to compromise for someone else. Some of his friends and colleagues had tried to talk him out of it and persuade him to join them for his summer break. Matt had no interest in their Spanish villas or their all-inclusive trips to the Caribbean. He’d always wanted to explore Northumberland, and now, divorced and one year short of his fortieth birthday, he intended to do exactly what he pleased.

Those same colleagues were always trying to fix him up with their gay friends. It was four years since he’d split with Clinton, and people seemed determined to pair him off with someone else.

It was all well-meant, but Matt didn’t need it. This was his time to do his own thing, and he intended to enjoy it.

He followed the path upwards, through the cobbled backstreets of the old town. Living in a city, albeit a modest one like York, gave him a greater appreciation of small towns and villages, especially those on the coast. The pace was much calmer here, more peaceful. He knew he was looking through the rose-tinted eyes of a tourist, but tonight he was happy in the belief that life was simpler in a place like this.

A middle-aged couple walking a small terrier smiled at him and nodded as they passed.

“Hey,” he said in return.

After a busy day at court, he looked forward to a quiet night in the holiday home. He would pour a glass of wine, order some food and unpack his stuff while waiting for it to arrive. He was too tired to explore the town this evening. There would be plenty of time for that tomorrow. He intended to get acquainted with Nyemouth this weekend, checking out the shops, pubs and caf├ęs, before exploring the wider area next week.

Matt was a keen walker and hiker. Though the path from the marina to the house was steep, he managed it with the two bags of shopping without getting even mildly out of breath. The path levelled out as he reached South Bank Terrace and the last stretch was straight. The views from up here were second-to-none, taking in the entire valley and the river mouth. Maybe he’d be able to enjoy it with a glass of wine in the front garden before darkness cut in.

There were two men on the path that ran in front of the garden wall. He heard their raised voices as he approached.

“I’ve told you a million times before that the answer is no,” one of the men said. He was dressed in running shorts and a T-shirt—younger and slimmer than the other man. Pretty hot, Matt noticed the guy with long, muscular legs and dark brown hair that swept back from his face in luxurious waves.

“You’re being unreasonable,” the second man said. His voice sounded tight, like he was speaking through gritted teeth. He was stocky and thickset, with closely cropped grey hair and a narrow face. He wore grey suit trousers and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up and the neck open.

“You’re the one who followed me up here,” the younger man said, sounding like he was close to losing it.

“What was I supposed to do? You won’t answer your damned phone. You don’t respond to my voicemails.”

“Don’t you get it, Vince? I blocked your number. I’ve told you before—I don’t know how many times—but I’ve had enough.”

A lover’s tiff, Matt guessed, though they seemed an unlikely couple. The young guy could do so much better for himself. Not that looks were everything, but he was way out of the older man’s league. Matt gave them a wide berth as he passed, but came close enough to see just how attractive the young man was. He had large, expressive eyes, a long, straight nose and a wide mouth. He looked wholesomely handsome in his running gear, giving off cute Clark Kent vibes.

The other man, he realised, was not as old as he’d first seemed, maybe early-to-mid-thirties. His prematurely grey hair and sharp features created a false impression. Even still, the two men did not look well matched.

“Just come with me,” the older man, Vince, snarled. “Listen to what I have to say.”

“Vince, I’ve heard everything before. There’s nothing you can say now that will make any difference.”

“How do you know if you won’t give me a fucking chance?”

Matt opened the gate and carried his shopping to the front door. He would not get involved. As a lawyer, he spent his entire working life dealing with the relationship problems of other people. These were two grown men. They could sort out their own issues. He put the key in the door.

“Get off me,” the young man snapped.

Matt glanced back to see him pull his arm out of Vince’s grip, and the man immediately lunged for him again. The young man dodged the grip.

“Stop being such a prick,” Vince said, his voice much louder now.

Matt groaned. This had the potential to get out of hand. He’d witnessed this kind of behaviour so many times—not just through work and handling messy divorce proceedings, but at home. Throughout his childhood, his father had been a pig, quick to anger and keen to use his fists. Matt didn’t want to get involved, but he couldn’t ignore this either.

“Is everything okay, fellas?” he asked, turning to face them.

Vince snapped his head around in his direction. “Piss off and mind your own fucking business. Prick.”

Matt ignored him and directed his gaze at the younger guy.

The man forced a smile. “It’s fine. Really.”

Matt nodded, unconvinced, but reluctant to involve himself any further in what was clearly a domestic argument. He carried his bags inside and through to the kitchen. As he put his supplies into the cupboard and the fridge, he could still hear their raised voices.

Vince sounded like the worst type of man—the kind of inadequate dickhead who tried to compensate for his own shortcomings with bullying and aggression. Matt knew the type well, having grown up with one until the age of twelve, when his mother had finally thrown his father’s sorry arse out. And he’d represented so many women and children during divorce and child protection cases who’d been caught up in relationships with controlling men.

Although he wanted to leave them to it, Matt’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to. He went into the living room and watched them through the window, hoping their argument would die down before it got any worse.

The young man had his hands up, warding Vince off to no effect as the little man puffed himself up and tried to get in his face.

“You stupid little prick,” he heard Vince say. “You’re worthless, you know that. Nothing. You were no one when I met you and you’re no one again.”

The skin of the young man’s face and neck was flushed. “If that’s how you feel, why don’t you go? Go on, and leave me alone.”

“I can’t leave you alone,” Vince said, changing tack. “You need me, Jake. You can’t get along without me. You’re useless on your own. You can’t cope.”

The young man, Jake, turned his back and tried to walk away. Vince grabbed his arm again and hauled him around, pulling him close, then wrapped his arms around him, taking him in a bear hug.

“Let go of me,” Jake protested.

“Enough of this shit. We’re going home.” Vince tried to lift him up and carry him.

Jake struggled, twisting out of his grip. Vince raised his hand to strike him.

Matt had seen enough. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the video camera as he headed for the door. He was filming when he stepped outside, training it on the two men. They might not like it, but he was determined to have a clear record of what happened next in case he had to call the police to deal with them.

As Matt walked down the path, Vince hauled back and struck Jake, his fist connecting with the side of his face, sending the young man sprawling to the ground.

“What the hell?” Jake complained, scrabbling backwards in the dirt, shuffling on his butt to escape his attacker.

“Stop pissing about and get the fuck home,” Vince jeered. “I’ve had enough of this fucking around. Do what I tell you to for once.”

Matt’s own anger mounted. Now that things had turned violent, he couldn’t let it continue. “Pack it in,” he shouted, coming to the end of the garden path.

Vince twisted in his direction. Matt saw the uncontrolled emotions flicker across his face—surprise, confusion, anger, then the aggression was back. He bared his teeth like a feral dog. “I’ve told you once already. Piss off and mind your own business.”

“I was prepared to do just that,” Matt said, keeping his voice calm and even, like a headmaster addressing a petulant teenager. “But when you throw your fists about, I can’t let that go. And, yes, I got that punch you just threw on camera, in case you’re wondering. It’s something I’m sure the police will be interested to see.”

Vince’s focus flickered between Matt and Jake. The bastard was no longer so sure of himself.

“This is a private matter. Nothing to do with you or the cops.” He puffed out his chest as he spoke, trying to assert his manhood.

“Again,” Matt said, amazed by his own composure, “that was the case until you started punching in the street. Now, it’s very much a matter for the police. Why don’t I call them and see what they think about it?”

“You fucking busybody… You should stop twitching your curtains and getting involved in things that have nothing to do with you.”

Matt kept the camera trained on him. “You’re not very bright, are you, Vince? For the third time, you made it my business. Now, are you going to take yourself off down that hill, or do I have to call the police to do it?”

Vince strutted towards the garden gate. “Why don’t you try to make me? Show me if you’re man enough to take me on.” He clenched his fists.

Matt wouldn’t fight him, but there was a good chance Vince would take a swing at him, regardless. “We have different ideas of what makes a man,” he said. “Violence won’t get you anything other than jail time, Vince. Even if Jake there doesn’t want to press charges against you, my testimony and video evidence will be enough to charge you and get you in front of the local magistrates on Monday. Is that the way you want this to go? To spend the weekend in a police cell? Or would you rather leave before you make it any worse?”

Stalemate. They glowered at each other across the fence. Bigger and more menacing men than Vince had tried to intimidate Matt, and he had not backed down. He wasn’t about to cave under the glare of this prize arsehole.

Vince’s face twisted in an ugly expression before he spat at the ground. He stepped away, turning his back on Matt. “Are you coming?” he demanded of Jake, who had risen to his feet and stood brushing the dust off his shorts. Matt noticed a smear of blood on the younger man’s face.

Jake shook his head. “Just go—and leave me alone. I don’t want to see you again.”

Vince loitered, his fists still clenched, his arms trembling.

There’s so much anger simmering under his lid that he looks like he’s about to explode.

“I think the message is clear,” Matt said. “Why don’t you do everyone a favour and leave?”

“Fuck you,” he said at last, his voice low and contemptuous. And as a parting shot to Matt, “Cunt.”

He strutted down the road, his shoulders back, knees wide, trying to look like a big man.

Matt, realising he’d been holding his breath, exhaled.

This was not the quiet evening he’d intended for the first night of his holiday.

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About the Author

Thom Collins

Thom Collins is the author of Closer by Morning, with Pride Publishing. His love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie Collins book and promptly confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels. 

 Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonkbusters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but since taking his first cruise in 2013 he realized that sailing is the way to go. 

You can take a look at Thom's Blog and follow him on Twitter.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card!  

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Notice: This competition ends on 30th November 2021 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. 

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Red’s Wolf by Beth Laycock


Enjoy fairytale retellings? Check out today's release blitz from author Beth Laycock and Gay Book Promotions for Red's Wolf! Discover more about the paranormal romance and enter in the eBook back list/$10 Amazon gift card giveaway!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Red’s Wolf

Author: Beth Laycock

Publisher: Rainbow Romance Press

Cover Artist: Free To Be Creative Co

Release Date: November 10, 2021

Genre: Paranormal romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, age gap, snowed-in together 

Themes: Found family, learning to accept yourself

Heat Rating:  3 - 4 flames  

Length: approx 28 000 words

It is the first book in a series of standalone books/novellas and does not end on a cliffhanger. 

Goodreads 

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

A fairy-tale retelling with a paranormal twist!

Blurb

Concerned for his gran’s health, Red braves the snow-covered forest to ensure she’s safe in the worsening weather. After several encounters over recent months, Red is both hoping to run into the huntsman again whilst also dreading he might because he knows their friendship can’t lead to more, no matter how much he wishes it might. 

A glimpse of his huntsman distracts Red and he stumbles away from the safety of the woodland path straight into the danger known as the wolf of Bowland. Shaken, but unharmed, Red manages to escape to the safety of his gran’s cottage to recover. 

Despite Red’s reservations, the pair grow closer after they end up snowed in together at the huntsman’s cabin, but can Aldrich help Red accept there is nothing wrong with who he is? Or will Red let his secret and insecurities come between them? Especially when he finds out his huntsman is hiding a secret of his own.

This M/M romance from Beth Laycock features friends to lovers, an age gap, snowed-in together, shifters and witches, and of course a HEA.

Excerpt 

I stopped as I reached the twisted oak and drew in a deep breath, and then slowly blew it out in a plume of white vapour. Hope warred with trepidation. I didn’t know the man all that well, we’d met a handful of times over the last few months in the woods to stop and talk, but I knew enough that I liked the man and wanted to discover more about him. 

And those encounters in the secluded woods had left me wanting more. More glimpses of the toned body that was hinted at beneath his clothes. More opportunities to listen to his lilting, almost musical voice as we chatted about everything and nothing. More chances to lose my senses in his intoxicating musky scent with that spicy hint of cinnamon. 

And didn’t that just spell trouble with a capital T. Looking forward to seeing the huntsman could only lead to heartache. I doubted one night with him would be anywhere near enough. And I didn’t do relationships. Couldn’t

With a brush of my palm over the twisted oak’s trunk, I veered off to the right and towards Gran’s. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted and as I raised my gaze…there he was. As if thinking about him had conjured him out of thin air, and I sucked in an icy breath.

Crouched in the distance, blurred by the snow that had begun to fall again, but I’d have recognised him anywhere. I took a step towards him. Adrenaline surged through my veins as excitement and anticipation spurred me closer. I couldn’t drag my gaze off him as he reached out a hand to the snow. 

What is he doing? 

Too engrossed by the vision of the huntsman, I must have wandered to the edge of the path because I stumbled over a small boulder hidden beneath the blanket of snow. I cried out as I fell, throwing out my hands to break my fall and to try to keep me on the path as my gran’s warnings rang out in my head. Never leave the path, Red. It’s not safe in the woods if you’re not on the path, that’s the only place I can protect you out there

But it was too late. As my elbow connected with the ground, it was cushioned by the soft earth of the forest floor instead of hard stone. Pain ripped through my body, and every bone ached as the curse took hold of me. 

I rolled onto my side as my hands morphed into paws, claws flicking out, and grey fur sprouting over every inch of my skin. My eyes shifted position and my vision dimmed to only muted colours as my sense of hearing heightened—the scuffle of some small animal scurrying away along a branch, the whisper of the snow falling on the ground, the slow, deep breaths of the huntsman in the distance—and my ears twitched.

My fangs dropped from my gums to replace my useless regular teeth, and my nose lengthened into a snout as the smells of the forest overwhelmed me. I could scent the huntsman even from this distance. And that tug I felt in my chest every time I saw him intensified to the point I almost threw my head back and howled.

The cinnamon tang of him had saliva dripping from my fangs, and I shuddered at the thought of sinking them into his warm, soft flesh. I shook my head, trying to rid the idea from my mind as I scrambled to my paws, but I could almost feel the give of his skin beneath my fangs as they sliced through him. 

My wolf did not control me. I would not bite a human. My heart throbbed at the thought, especially at the notion of harming the huntsman. It seemed wrong somehow, even though it was in my wolf nature to kill, and I couldn’t deny that weird urge—bite, bite, bite—whenever I was around him. 

The snap of a twig made me flinch. It was so loud and brought my surroundings back into sharp focus. A glance over my shoulder confirmed my worst fears. The huntsman was headed straight for me. 

I bounded away in the other direction, dodging between trees in the hope of shaking him off my trail. Of course, I didn’t. He was a huntsman and he easily tracked my paw prints in the snow despite the fact he couldn’t match my pace.

I circled back to where I’d stumbled off the path, crossing over my original paw prints to throw him off my tail. My tongue lolled out despite the cold nip in the air. I darted behind the twisted oak tree, my ears twitching as I listened for the huntsman. Nothing. 

I hung my head and drew in a breath. The big bad wolf escapes his hunter.

About the Author 

Beth Laycock’s books are influenced by her time living overseas as well as the gritty, urban landscape of the north of England where she grew up. She has been reading romance since she was old enough to tell herself that line every book lover does—just one more chapter.

As a teenager, she attempted to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf. It wasn’t until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasn’t stopped scribbling them down since. Beth’s muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she can turn caffeine into words.

 Beth’s books range from sweet to sexy, long to short, contemporary to paranormal, but a HEA is always guaranteed.

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Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

an ebook from Beth's backlist plus a $10 Amazon gift card

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Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Guest Review: Compassion Fatigue (Marisburg Chronicles #1) by Emily Carrington

Peter Campbell, a deaf man who teaches sign language classes, believes no one would ever love a bisexual man. When his new veterinarian, Dr. Abe Yoshida, shows him he’s wrong, Peter is left with the monumental task of coming out to his teenage daughter. Can his growing love for Abe give him the courage he needs?

The holidays are the worst time for Dr. Abe. He recently lost a patient, and the circumstances leave him struggling under a burden of guilt. Adding to his depression, as the COVID-19 pandemic worsens, he finds himself the victim of anti-Asian hate crimes. Then he meets Peter, a compassionate, partially in the closet bisexual man. Will Abe let love heal his heart, or will suicide’s sour music bewitch his soul?

Trigger Warning: Deals with Asian Hate Crimes, COVID-19, depression and suicidal thoughts in characters with disabilities, which may be triggers for some readers.


Reviewer: Shee Reader


This is a moving story that carries a whole slew of trigger warnings. It is a sensitively written and enjoyable story that doesn’t shy away from some huge issues that are so very prevalent in our ongoing pandemic world.

It is refreshing to have a main character who is bisexual, though Peter has some seriously internalised bi-phobia which is a little hard to read. Our other leading man has serious mental health problems, with Abe struggling with suicidal thoughts. The balance is a tricky one and some bits of the book are clunky and a touch heavy, but I liked that this wasn’t a formulaic happy romance novel. This was a pair of vulnerable men who found the strength to be what the other needed.

I really enjoyed this unusual book and a new-to-me author.

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



Release Blitz + Giveaway: Cosy & Chill by Jackie Keswick


Cosy & Chill is out! Learn more about the winter romance from author Jackie Keswick and Gay Book Promotions! Enter in the giveaway for a chance to win $10 Amazon gift card and an ebook of choice from the author's backlist!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:  Cosy & Chill

Author: Jackie Keswick

Publisher: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Covers by Jo

Release Date: November 10, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance with a Touch of Magic

Tropes: Opposites Attract, everyday magic, stranded fae, lost treasure, house mates, home-made family / found family

Themes: How to make dreams come true

Heat Rating: 3 flames       

Length:  approx. 62 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Amazon CA  |  Amazon DE  |  Amazon AU

Romance with a Touch of Fae

Blurb

What does it take to change your life?

Not “manly” enough for his father, quiet, industrious Finn dreams of his own knitting store. He needs Leo’s enthusiasm to take the steps that make his dream come true.

Cheerful, adventurous Leo puts on a good front selling artisan ice cream at the market, but shies away from fulfilling his grandmother’s last wish. He needs Finn’s love and support to tackle his past and put it to rest for good.

Add a Saxon treasure, a fae stranded in the human world, and an empty store with very unusual rental terms and falling in love is not the only challenge Finn and Leo have to face.

But there's magic in dreams, and all they have to do is hold on tight.

Excerpt 

Finn’s boots squelched with every step. When he kicked them off on his parents’ doorstep, water seeped from his wet socks. “I hate November,” he grumbled while he hunted for his keys. “And weather forecasters.”

They hadn’t predicted this morning’s downpour, and Finn minded that. He might have taken an umbrella had he known. Or a boat.

He’d gone to the post office to drop off his latest batch of parcels, detouring on to the far end of the High Street to look at an empty store on the way back. Double-fronted with a bow window, it was perfect for the shop he dreamed of. He’d lingered in front of the dusty windows, imagining them sparkling clean, and the shelves in the room beyond filled to bursting—until the rain had prompted him to leave.

The shop was all he could think of and if wishes were coins, he’d have rented it already. As matters stood, he hadn’t even enquired.

Finn pushed open the door, and a ball of russet yarn with two needles sticking through it hit him right in the face.

“How many times have I told you not to leave your prissy stuff lying around the house?” His father bellowed at full volume from three feet away.

Finn wanted to point out that his ears worked fine, thank you very much, but knew that it would only make matters worse. He picked up the yarn, grateful that neither needle had poked his eye out, and that his father’s rough treatment hadn’t dropped any stitches.

“Sorry, Dad,” he muttered, meaning it. He’d been working on a commission when he realised that he’d miss the parcel collection if he didn’t hurry. In his rush to the door, he’d brought the half-finished glove in his wake. He should have taken it back to his room and run if he’d needed to, but that was water under the bridge.

He hung up his jacket in the hallway, then stripped off his sodden socks and his T-shirt so he could dry his feet before leaving wet footprints everywhere. He wiped up the water on the wooden floor for good measure before he made his way up the stairs.

If his father was yelling when it was barely five o’clock, then the rest of the evening wouldn’t be peaceful. No doubt he’d already opened the bottle of Scotch he’d bought yesterday.

Finn couldn’t cope with much more of this. Christmas was two months away. His list of orders was as long as his arm and turning away new business was not an option. He needed to work, not sit in his room, keeping half an ear out for trouble. 

The familiar, colourful clutter in his room soothed his mind. The space wasn’t large, just roomy enough for a bed, a wardrobe, and his desk. Every free corner held boxes and baskets filled with yarn, and he hunted for a piece he could create in a few hours. Hats were good for that. He could knock those out in no time flat.

His order book showed two requests for hats, and both were his favourites: custom orders.

He opened the first file to the smiling face of a young woman with green eyes, red hair a few shades darker than his own bright copper, and a spray of freckles across her nose. She’d requested a hat in a flattering style, but had specified nothing else. Moss green, his mind supplied immediately. Mohair. A close-fitting hat with a swirl pattern.

Suddenly excited, he went rummaging under his desk for a skein of moss-green yarn that showed tiny speckles of deep red here and there. He stuffed the yarn into his messenger bag along with his needle case, a measuring tape and the customer’s measurements. Then he changed into dry clothes and checked the weather. The rain had let up a bit, and Finn hoped he could make it to the pub without getting soaked again.

His father was swearing at something on the telly, as had become his habit. Finn tiptoed out and breathed a sigh of relief when he stood in the rain. Everything set off his father’s temper these days. Especially Finn.

He really should move out. He would move out. As soon as he’d saved enough to afford the rent on a small shop with a room where he could sleep. Maybe then, his father wouldn’t be so angry all the time and his mother would smile again.

Three hours later, the moss-green hat was nearing completion. Warm through after a dinner of steak pie and chips, and nursing a second beer, Finn felt almost happy. He was a familiar sight in the Crown & Anchor, tucked into a corner with his yarns and needles. It was a place where he could work without fear of interruption, and he’d been coming here ever since his father had lost his job and started drinking.

Food and peace weren’t the only things to recommend the pub. It was a great place to pick up commissions. People always looked for unusual, one-of-a-kind gifts, and he’d made christening gowns, blankets, baby clothes, scarves, hats, gloves, even Christmas ornaments.

The crowd was friendly and Annabelle, who held the pub’s license and worked at the bar that night, was more supportive than his parents had ever been. He’d made her a long cardigan, wine- red yak with a touch of silk, and she was perfectly happy for him to sit in his corner and knit. She even recommended him to friends and customers.

He hadn’t shared his dreams of owning a yarn shop with anyone, but maybe it was time to change that. He was working up his courage to ask her about business loans and setup grants, but he’d wait until she’d finished speaking to the guy leaning on the bar.

He had broad shoulders that tapered to slim hips, a trim backside, and long legs. A fisherman’s rib jumper, Finn’s mind suggested. Navy blue AAran. Or tweed, indigo with gold speckles. With a high collar to show off that long neck and let the slightly too long blond hair pool like gold against the blue.

You’re staring. Stop it.

That was easier said than done until Finn thought to wonder why the guy had four little Tupperware dishes open on the bar between himself and Annabelle.

He was explaining something to her, talking not just with his hands but with his whole body. There was passion in that lithe form, something bright and shining that held Finn’s interest until he realised he hadn’t stopped staring at all.

He dropped his gaze to his newly finished hat and tried to focus on the pattern, the run of the yarn. It would suit the lady who’d sent the photo. It would frame her delicate face, set off the striking hair, and bring out the green of her eyes. He knew the hat would find favour with her, but—for once—knitting couldn’t hold his mind.

The blond man at the bar drew his mind and his eyes, and Finn caught the moment when all that passion fell to ashes. The man’s shoulders slumped and one of his hands dropped to his side.

Annabelle watched him with an apologetic smile as he returned his dishes to his bag. She pulled a beer for him and handed it across the bar.

For a heartbeat, he appeared as if he was going to refuse. Then he dipped his head in thanks and reached for the glass. He slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder and turned away from the bar.

In a move that surprised him by its daring, Finn caught the man’s gaze, flicked his own to the empty seat at this table. He’d never been so brazen before, but something in the man’s wary determination spoke to him. He wasn’t sure what the blond man saw, but he came over and set his beer on the table.

“May I?”

About the Author 

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She's worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn't found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places

Blog/Website  |  Facebook group  |  Facebook page  |  Twitter 

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  TikTok  |  Patreon 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a 

$10 Amazon gift card and an ebook of choice from the author's backlist

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Genie in a Vodka Bottle by Rob Rosen


Author Rob Rosen and Gay Book Promotions visit with the Genie in a Vodka Bottle release blitz! Read more about the speculative romance and enter in the giveaway!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Genie in a Vodka Bottle

Author: Rob Rosen

Publisher: JMS Books

Release Date: November 6, 2021

Genre: Speculative M/M Romance, Mystery, Adventure

Tropes: Genie, Enemy to Friend, Magic

Themes: Searching for love, forgiveness

Heat Rating:  4 flames   

Length:  139 pages/56 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

Barnes & Noble  |  Kobo  |  Google Play

A funny, frisky, and frequently heart-pounding genie romance and adventure novel!

Blurb

Mysterious forces are at play when Paul’s vacation to Spain unexpectedly detours to Gibraltar and then Morocco, to a vodka bottle in a hole in the wall bar, to a handsome genie with a slew of secrets, plus almost limitless powers, virtually no memory, and a keen desire to be freed from his curse. Along the way, Paul is reunited with his ex-lover and the genie’s previous master as fate draws them ever deeper into a murky, dangerous past.

On our heroes travel, from the frigid north of Russia to a magic carpet ride across China, ultimately finding themselves in the deserts of ancient Jordan. Here, they encounter another of the genie’s previous masters and a power far greater than they could’ve ever imagined, all within a massive temple carved into a mountainside. Can our intrepid foursome uncover the truth before the curse takes them all and possibly the entire world down? Will love win out in the end? Or is the genie forever doomed to a life foretold in fairy tales?

In this funny, frisky, and frequently heart-pounding adventure, only one thing is for certain: magic can happen even without three wishes.

Excerpt 

The bottle was still in my hand. I reached for the cork. I gave it a pull. It didn’t budge. I pulled again, harder this time. Nope, nothing. That cork must’ve been in there a long, long time, I figured. I stood up, placed the bottle between my knees, wiped the sweat from my palms and grabbed on tightly to the cork. Then, seeing as where I was, grunted, “Open sesame,” and gave one final, massive yank.

POP went the cork.

“Oh fuck,” went I.

I mean sure, the bottle was open, but, um, well, time was suddenly standing still. Like totally still. Nothing was moving, not the fans, the waitress, not Omar, who was pouring a drink that was suspended in midair. Though me, yeah, me I was moving. Or least my heart was. Super-fast, in fact. Energizer Bunny fast.

“Oh fuck,” went I, yet again.

Because now the vodka bottle was pouring, only, it wasn’t pouring vodka. And the pouring wasn’t obeying the laws of gravity because what was being poured went out and up as opposed down and down some more. Plus, the vodka bottle should have been pouring liquid but appeared to be pouring gas, a massive white cloud of it tinged with swirls of various shades of blue and, if I wasn’t mistaken, which I wasn’t, lightning. I mean, I knew lightning when I saw it, it’s just I’d never seen it being poured from a vodka bottle before.

The cloud spread, the blue becoming purple, then red, then all the colors of the rainbow at once. It looked like what you saw in an oil slick, greasy and blending and bleeding. And then the room I was in was all cloud, and it was just me in the cloud, me and the vodka bottle and the cloud of smoke and lightning and rainbow. The hairs on my neck stood on end as I tried to take it all in, but how do you take in a cloud, especially when it’s all around you, choking you, engulfing you completely as if it were a living, breathing thing? And you could feel it, too. The power of it.

“Oh fuck,” went I for the third time. Because now I was not alone in the cloud, and the eyes that had been staring back at me from the label on the bottle were no longer on the bottle and were no longer the same eyes. And the face on the bottle had a body, a different body, a new body, and the body was big, and the body was torso on top and cloudy solidness down below, and the face was above mine, and the eyes were staring down upon me, boring through me, piercing what felt like my very soul. Or maybe that was me being a bit overdramatic, but how can you not be overdramatic at a time such as that?

“Master,” boomed the voice that erupted forth from the mouth in the face, the cloud all at once swept from the still-stagnant room. The half torso, half solid cloud still floated above me, still churning in color and lightning and a slight tremble of thunder that reminded me of our drive through Spain, me and Omar number two.

“Paul,” I managed to squeak out.

The face tilted ever so slightly. “Paul? What is a Paul? I do not know this word.” The voice again boomed, rattled my bones, shook the fillings in my mouth. The voice was deep as the ocean, heavy as a boulder, pressing down upon me with each vowel and syllable that was uttered.

“Paul,” I said, sitting back down in my chair. Or falling back down in my chair. Probably the latter. “That is my name. Paul.”

The cloud-man craned down, the eyes barely a foot away. “Paul,” came the voice in a whoosh that washed over me like a tidal wave, the exhale smelling of spices and earth and incense. If you bottled it, it’d sell well. I had a bottle in hand, but, like the room around me, I was sort of also frozen to the spot, and so bottling, at least for the time being, seemed out of the question. “You have freed me, Master Paul.”

I blinked. He did not. He had eyes the color of fresh moss, skin the color of The Rock back in Gibraltar, perhaps a shade darker. He was shirtless, dense with smooth muscle from chest to arms to hands to fingers. And despite the obvious power of him, he looked young, my age, give or take. And as for the cloud below him, it swirled like a cyclone, shooting off sparks as he hovered there. He was beautiful. He was fearsome. I needed to pee. Badly.

About the Author 

Rob Rosen is the author of the award-winning novels Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava, Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort, Fate, Midlife Crisis, Fierce, And God Belched, Mary, Queen of Scotch, Ted of the d’Urbervilles, Sort of Dead, and Genie in a Vodka Bottle, and editor of the anthologies Lust in Time, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015, and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volumes 1, 2, 3 and 4.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

an ebook copy of Genie in a Vodka Bottle

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Yakuza Path 6: Wrapped in Screams by Amy Tasukada


Author Amy Tasukada and Gay Book Promotions returns to promote The Yakuza Path 6: Wrapped in Screams! Read more about the thriller and enter in the giveaway!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Yakuza Path: Wrapped in Screams

Author: Amy Tasukada

Publisher:  Marcarons & Tea

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: November 4, 2021

Genre: Gay thriller, Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Bad boys, hurt/comfort, boss/secretary, slow burn romance

Themes: Friends to lovers

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 37 500 words/ 184 pages

Though the story is self-contained, it is best enjoyed if read as part of the series.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Link    |   Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

A gunshot. A bloody note. And a relationship that might not survive…

Blurb

Now that the war with the Korean syndicate is behind him, all Nao Murata wants is a vacation and a chance to nurture his new relationship with Aki Hisona. They can punish those who abandoned the family later.

After six weeks trapped in a hospital bed, a quiet vacation is the last thing Aki wants. Ready to prove himself to Nao and the rest of the family, Aki’s desperate for some action. And not just the yakuza kind…

When Aki hears a gunshot, he knows the dust has far from settled. Nao says it can wait, but Aki’s unable to understand why they can’t tie up those loose ends. 

Between Aki’s constant pushing and Nao’s uncompromising focus on what he thinks is best for them both, are they too stubborn for their fragile relationship to last?

Find out in The Yakuza Path: Wrapped in Screams, the sixth installment of The Yakuza Path thriller series. If you like gritty Japanese crime, complex characters, and a high dose of gay romance, then you’ll love Amy Tasukada’s latest novel.

Buy Wrapped in Screams to get your taste of romantic revenge today!

The Yakuza Path Series

BOOK 1 - Blood Stained Tea

BOOK 2 - Better Than Suicide

BOOK 3 - One Thousand Cranes

BOOK 4 - The Deafening Silence

BOOK 5 - Flowers of Flesh and Blood

BOOK 6 - Wrapped in Screams

Excerpt 

“Of course I want you to sleep with me.” Aki placed a hand suggestively on Nao’s thigh.

Aki couldn’t think of anything else that would make him happier than having Nao’s cock rip him in half. Though Aki doubted he could get his up even if he wanted to. Skipping the pain meds to get his libido back was the next thing on his to-do list. The hospital had only given him a two-week supply. So far he hadn’t hurt too much and they’d mostly made him tired. It would still probably take a few days for the narcotics to completely leave his system, but he and Nao could mess around until then.

“We need to be careful.” Nao brushed Aki’s hand away.

Tightness gripped Aki’s chest and clawed at his throat. Nao pushed him away again. After everything Aki had been through, after everything Aki had done for him, it was like nothing had changed between them.

“We couldn’t even kiss yesterday without you becoming breathless,” Nao added.

It sounded so cruel. Why did it have to hurt so much? Aki looked away, but Nao cupped Aki’s face. The gesture lessened the pain, but it still stabbed.

Nao’s eyebrows drew together. “I don’t want you hurt because of something I did ever again. There’s a whole list of things you can’t do.”

“The doctors were being cautious.”

“There’s a gaping hole in your chest.”

“It’s six centimeters. That’s hardly gaping.”

“I don’t want you back in the hospital because of an infection. It can happen to anyone. It happened to me when I didn’t listen to my doctor.”

“And because you weren’t taking your antibiotics.”

“That’s true.” Nao laughed.

“Are you going to kiss me at least?”

Nao leaned over until their lips touched. He was cautious at first as if asking permission. Aki opened his mouth, and Nao’s tongue entered. Aki’s muscles relaxed, and he willed his fears to subside. Nao wasn’t going to bend him against the nearest surface and screw him raw like in Aki’s fantasies, but Nao wasn’t saying it would never happen. All Aki had to do was convince Nao he was fine, and in a few days, they’d be banging like rabbits.

Nao licked at Aki’s bottom lip before pulling away. He pressed their foreheads together.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” Nao asked.

Aki nodded. “You’ll at least help me change my bandages, right?”

“You’ll have to teach me.”

Aki pulled off his undershirt, hiding a grimace of pain in the cloth. He wanted to be alluring. Nao had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but it would be the first so close. Aki glanced over his shoulder suggestively, but Nao was focused on taking the bandages out of the plastic bag.

Aki sighed. Changing his bandages wasn’t sexy, but he’d hoped the undressing part would be.

About the Author 

International best-selling author Amy Tasukada writes thrilling times of crime, love, and gore. Readers who crave diverse characters, unique settings, and edge-of-your-seat action will devour her Yakuza Path series. Readers who seek less blood and more love will swoon over the Yakuza Path Romance and Would it Be Okay to Love You? Series. Amy is an atheist, queer author who enjoys drinking tea, Japanese street fashion and visual kei music.  Her calico cat, O’Hara, is never far from her side. Amy lives in North Texas, but is always planning her next trip to Japan.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |    Instagram   

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