Release Blitz + Giveaway: Mistletoe Menage by Lily Harlem & A Spoonful of Sugar by AE Lister

The We Three Kings collection is out from Pride Publishing! Read more about Mistletoe Menage by Lily Harlem and A Spoonful of Sugar by AE Lister! Enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!

A Spoonful of Sugar by AE Lister
Mistletoe Menage by Lily Harlem


BONDAGE AND BDSM (A Spoonful of Sugar)

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A Spoonful of Sugar
Mistletoe Menage

Book Description

A Spoonful of Sugar

A kinky interlude over the holidays brings three men closer as their unconventional relationship evolves from casual to serious.

Scott Vernier met Jericho Griffin and Pascal Olejatz at a Halloween party in October and soon became casually involved with the kinky, committed pair.

Over the course of the holidays, the men struggle to find time together outside their busy schedules and finally make space for each other over Christmas week. Scott finds himself craving more of a committed relationship with these wonderful men and tiptoes around the issue to find out if Jericho and Pascal feel the same.

Scott’s dreams of expertly delivered medical play already a vivid reality, the men introduce him to more deliciously subversive scenes including teacher-student role play and invite him to dabble with imaginary non-consent.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of enema play and imaginary non-consent.

Mistletoe Menage

The winter days might be frosty, but a new guy in town is sure to heat up Father Nicholas and Dr. Zach!

Reverend Nicholas Simmons has traveled a bumpy road before landing in the small town of Mindle with his doctor husband. So, when a new, very sexy, very enticing young man shows interest in them both, he’s reluctant to rock the boat.

Zach, however, can’t keep the flashes of desire from his eyes. He’d never cheat, of course not, but visions of hot threesomes dance in his mind. Will Nicholas ever agree? If so, what would it be like? How hard would they all come?

Brandon isn’t looking forward to his first Christmas in Mindle. He’s alone. Exhausted. Friendless. That is, until he meets the Reverend and Zach. From that first moment he’s equal parts fascinated and turned on by them. Sure, they’re older than he is, but that just heightens his lust and increases his need to get hot, sweaty and naked with them.

Will their romance have a backdrop of tinsel and holly? Can three strong, passionate men truly connect with absolute honesty? And on Christmas night, will they each get the ultimate present—one another—under the tree?

Purchase one or both at First For Romance

About the Authors

AE Lister

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published 10 books, one of which received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association – International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

“Sensual and visceral BDSM.” –

Find out more about AE Lister at their website, and follow them on Instagram and Facebook. You can join their Facebook group and find out more at their BDSM blog.

Lily Harlem


Award-winning, bestselling author Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is a complete floozy when it comes to genres and pairings, writing from male/female contemporary to gay paranormal and everything in between.

One thing you can be sure of when you pick up a Lily book is heat will rise from the pages and you'll be reading late into the night! Enjoy!



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Notice: This competition ends on 4th January 2021 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. 

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Blessings and Miracles (Full Circle Christmas Edition) by H.M. Wolfe

Author H.M. Wolfe and Gay Book Promotions share Christmas second chance romance, Blessings and Miracles (Full Circle Christmas Edition)! Learn more and enter in the giveaway!


Book Title: Blessings and Miracles (Full Circle Christmas Edition)

Author: H.M. Wolfe

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: A.M. Snead

Release Date: December 9, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Second chance, found family, insta-love

Themes: Christmas wedding, family reunion, supportive family, Christmas party, marital bliss

Heat Rating: 4 flames     

Length: 56 000 words

It is not a standalone story, but does not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

It is that time of the year again...


It is that time of the year again...

With her niece Willa and her nephews' Sebastian and Fabian's life partner Vincent and husband Lance as trusted kitchen helpers, Zoe Stark throws another epic Christmas party at the family mansion near Hartford, Connecticut. All the members of the Stark and Bloom clans are going to be present, and there are a lot of achievements and happy events to celebrate.

Zane Parsons, a young widower, drives all the way to Orlando, Florida, to Connecticut, to honor the promise he made his grandmother on her deathbed. He is torn between hoping for a new life for him and his only child and the fear of being rejected. Zane strongly believes in Christmas miracles, but will he experience one, too?

After being separated from the only man he ever loved for more than thirty years, Rhett Randall gathers his courage and drives to his ex-husband family's mansion to talk to him for what could be the last time. It could be a total disaster, but it could also be one of those magic moments associated with Christmas.

The Christmas carols mix with the pitty-pat sound of little children's feet and their happy giggles in this gay romance novel about blessings, miracles and the power of love in its many forms


“We won't be ready on time,” Zoe Stark lamented in the middle of the Connecticut mansion's spacious kitchen. “All my nephews and nieces coming to visit me will starve on Christmas Day because the deli’s delivery service takes forever,” she continued in a desperate tone.

“Nana Zoe, calm down, please, everything will be all right,” Ava, the woman's granddaughter, spoke in a soft but confident voice. “If the deli fails to deliver the  order, we have Dunstan, Leon, and the others who can take care of the problem in the blink of an eye.

“Yes, Nana, listen to my wise little sister and try to relax a bit. All this agitation won't do any good for your blood pressure. On the contrary,” Rayne intervened, taking his grandmother's hands between his own.

“How can you be so calm, child? Your son comes home after spending a year abroad, he’s going to ask Claran to marry him, and you are telling me to relax? What will Gerrard think about his Nana when he and his fiancé sit at an empty table on Christmas Day?” Zoe shook her head, sighing dramatically.

“Nana, I don't think Gerrard and Claran will get engaged this Christmas,” Rayne calmly spoke. “I know my son, and he would have told me had he intended to propose to his boyfriend. We don't keep anything secret from each other,” the man said in a confident voice.

Zoe let out another sigh, suddenly saddened. “And I was thinking that... Anyway,” the woman continued in a livelier voice, “engagement party or not, there is still the problem of the Christmas dinner. The menu I chose for this year is very special to me, but, in the absence of the meats and ingredients...”

“Auntie, everything is fine,” Willa, Zoe's niece, who just ended the phone call she was engaged in, said “I talked to the people at the deli store, and the delivery truck is on  its way. With all the ice on the road, they had to slow down a bit and...”

“Enough talking. Let's get to work.” Zoe clapped her hands, bouncing back to her usual organized and commanding self. “Where is Lance when you need him the most?”

“He's in the dining room with Vincent and Joraan waiting for you to tell them what to do,” Willa answered, amused by her aunt's sudden change of attitude.

“Call them. I have work for them until the delivery truck arrives. Young man, what are you doing in my kitchen? I don't remember me taking over your office at the Van der Meerwe Institute, so please, go away and let me do what I know best.” Zoe shooed Rayne with a gesture of her hand.

“Yeah, sure, no one orders the others around like you do,” Alastair's second-born muttered under his breath as he left the kitchen.

Rayne headed to the mini-apartment he and his three life partners occupied in the other wing of the mansion, plopping on the four-post, king-size bed. Seymour and Sagan, two of his lovers, were helping Ardan with the Christmas party for The Base's residents, while Doctor Ross Brentano-Tavernier, the third man in Rayne's life, was giving the last instructions to the volunteers working on the sanctuary's clinic.

Rowena. So, this was her older brother Willard who loved her and her twin sister very much but couldn't see them as often as he wanted. Kane mentally facepalmed himself for not figuring things out earlier. The poor redhead must have been involved with some asshole who controlled his life and, most likely, abused him in the worst of ways.

“Well, most likely Uncle Alastair gave them a map with the best hiding places,” Sebastian tried a joke in an attempt to make the atmosphere less tense.

“It's a possibility I never considered,” Willard replied, his voice a bit livelier than earlier. “I have nothing against the girls playing all day long, but, when great-uncle Alastair and Mallory are away, Morwena and Rowena are my responsibility, and I wouldn't want to lose their trust.”

“Older brother, you couldn't find me! I won again!” Rowena hugged Willard, looking up at him and giggling happily. “I'm the champion, yay!” She did a little victory dance.

“Yes you are, indeed. But don't forget about your good manners,” Willard said in a soft voice. “We have guests.” He discreetly gestured to Ian, Warrick, and Kane who were about to climb the stairs to the main entrance with Sebastian and Vincent as guides.

“Hi, Ian, I'm so happy Warrick brought you with him. The girls' team needs a big, strong man like you to help us build a taller snowman.” Rowena cutely grinned. “Your friend Kane is a gentleman. He let me hide in your car and didn't rat me out to brother Willard.”

“And voilá!” Ian exclaimed, making great efforts not to burst into a wild fit of laughter. “The explanation of your mysterious absence from earlier. A couple more clever maneuvers like this one, and you'll be in the top position for the kiddies' preferences.”

“My older brother Fabian won't be happy about it, and neither will Ardan.” Sebastian grinned. “Trust me, kid, if you managed to be in Princess Rowena's good graces in such a short time, all the others will be at your feet in no time.”

“Run, it's a trap.” Willard feigned panic. “The shorties will pretend to worship you, but before you know it, they'll turn you into their slave. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about, been there, done that.” Adoration, affection, and warmth mixing in his emerald-green eyes, Willard picked Rowena up and kissed her on both cheeks. “But you can't stop loving them.”

“Let's get inside. You young folks are not affected by this bitter cold, I see, but my old bones are freezing.” Vincent shivered dramatically, making Warrick, Ian, and even Sebastian smirk.

“Go ahead. I think I'll stay for a while longer,” Kane said, looking at Willard from the corner of his eye. “I want to get to know the rest of,” he continued, blushing a light shade of pink.

“As you wish, but I wouldn't advise you to go there unprepared. Listen to Willard; he's an invaluable source of advice on how to avoid the kiddies' traps.” Ian benevolently smiled, disappearing into the mansion.

“I'm sure I have a lot to learn from him”—Kane offered the redhead a shy smile—“if he wants to share, that is. I don't want to become an inconvenience,” he added in a hesitant voice.

“Brother Willard is alone and sad,” Rowena suddenly spoke in a small voice. “Don't you want to be his boyfriend? He’s always good, but Santa never has any presents for him.” She wrapped her arms around the redhead's neck.

“Rowena Stark, that was...this is not how things go.” Willard hugged the little girl, then put her down. ”It' takes time and...relationships are complicated. You'll understand this when you grow up.”

“I just remembered I have important things to do.” Rowena ignored the redhead, grinning cutely. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk.”

“I apologize for my little sister's behavior. This is not her usual self, she's...I guess it's my fault.” Willard lowered his head.

“I love children very much,” Kane gently spoke, “and I saw you do, too. I'm sure we have other things in common, as well, and I'm looking forward to discovering them.”

There must have been something in the air that morning that affected people, making them act differently than usual. From an impulse he couldn't explain, Kane touched Willard's hand with the tips of his fingers, then took it in his. The redhead stared down but didn't shy away from the touch, the deep intimacy of the skin-on-skin contact making his heart beat a little faster.

Kane could sense that Willard Stark had a lot of wounds that went deep down into his soul, and he kept many painful secrets to himself. However, the redhead was a special man, and Kane was willing to wait for as long as it would take for Willard to open up to him. Maybe the two of them were brought together for a reason. Maybe the Christmas magic really existed. Kane smiled at the thought.

About the Author 

H.M. lives with the coolest Mom in the Universe and a fat, gay, submissive tomcat. She loves writing stories about boys and men who love, cherish, respect and protect other boys and men.

Social Media Links

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Release Blitz: Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire #26) by Jessamyn Kingley

 Gay Book Promotions and author Jessamyn Kingley share new release, Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire #26)! Read more about the latest fated mates romance today!


Book Title: Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: December 9, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes:  Enemies to lovers, fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 96 664 words

It is not a standalone story, but does not end on a cliffhanger.

Check out the D'vaire Series on Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Demons are expected to hate the Imperian, but what if he’s your mate?


Praetor Sashati Soriandras is adjusting to his wonderful new life as part of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His new leader’s choice to leave the demonic realm gained Sashati’s immediate approval. There is nothing there but dark memories and a horrible legend about the butcher who ripped magic from the demons a millennium ago.

After being banished to a tiny realm, Imperian Paszratorabiel—or Paszra, as he prefers to be called—is waiting for his wings to grow back. The minute he recovers, Paszra hunts for a place to bring his family so they can find mates. When Paszra finds a planet full of interesting beings, the presence of demons is the only thing he hates about his potential new home.

When Sashati and Paszra meet, neither man is happy to learn they are mates. The demons blame Paszra for everything, while the Imperian despises Sashati’s people. However, they share a tradition of not denying Fate. But to honor the way their souls are connected, Paszra and Sashati must overcome much more than their initial dislike of each other.


After they arrived in their office space, Sashati sprawled in his office chair and opened the book Arch Lich Chander Daray had suggested would further his education on the Council. 

“Reading again?” Diyarta asked. Once forced into teaching, Diyarta had left that life behind her for good. Her preference was to be in a gym sweating rather than burying her nose in between pages.

“I’m an advisor to our leader. I cannot function in that role if I don’t fully understand the Council.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m failing in my role as advisor?” Diyarta asked.

“I believe we have different strengths. You have the ear of the demons. You can advise Hexaniys on how to improve their lives. They are strangers to me and him. In our former realm and here in the Council, advisors have areas of expertise. If we were to study the same thing, our voices would be redundant.”

“You were so wasted as a guard in that palace,” Diyarta remarked.

“As long as I never have to return to such a role, I will have no complaints.”

“The same cannot be said for our people. You want to be an expert on the Council, but you cannot forget your place. Hexaniys lives with the Darays because he is one now. You are not. Hexaniys is safe surrounded by sentinels.”

“So are the demons,” Sashati replied. “They live in the Daray Sentinel Complex.”

“It is a temporary home, or at least it was supposed to be, I believed. They want to embrace being demons, not be forced into training and the things that sentinels love simply because the Imperator is mated to one.”

“No one has asked them to train. I do it because I like it.”

“As do I,” Diyarta said.

“One reason the complex suits them is because of the many classes the sentinels offer in the evenings and on weekends. It was supposed to be an avenue for the demons to learn about the Council and to find something to give their lives purpose. Instead, they shop and rest in their apartments. They will go to restaurants for meals but not to the sentinels’ cafeteria.”

“I told you, they fear being lumped in with the sentinels.”

“They must find hobbies at the very least,” Sashati replied.

“They are recovering from the atrocities they’ve endured.”

“Diyarta, they refuse to even explain what happened while we were here at the behest of Masal’akra. How are we to help them if they will not discuss the war?”

“Perhaps when the wounds are not so fresh, they’ll be more forthcoming.”

“It has been many weeks,” Sashati said.

“They worry about you living with Hexaniys among the sentinel leadership.”

It was a cause of disagreement that had slowly grown between Sashati and Diyarta. The demons supposedly wanted Sashati to live among them, but Hexaniys and the Darays had offered bedrooms to Sashati and Diyarta. His fellow praetor had refused the invitation and gone to the Daray Sentinel Complex. 

Sashati was torn between the two places and didn’t know if he was right to stay near Hexaniys, but the demon refused to be dictated to by anyone. That was a life they’d left behind, and the new Imperator gave them plenty of space to make decisions for themselves. The problem, as far as Sashati could see it, was that the demons wanted to do nothing. They spent money and complained to Diyarta instead of exploring the Council.

“The guards of other leaders often elect to share homes or land with them,” Sashati said.

“Demons must find their own path.”

“I’m entitled to do what I choose.”

“Just don’t forget that you’re a demon.”

“How could I ever do that?” Sashati asked.

“It’s easy to get swept away into this world of sorcery and shifters, even though we differ from the others in this world. Our power is lost, and we must never forget how that came to be or that there is no ability to regain it.”

“My hatred for the Imperian burns as brightly as it has since the first time I heard his name,” Sashati growled. The Imperian inspired rage in him like nothing else could, and he doubted any demon lamented the loss of their magic more than Sashati. There was so much of it around them, and it pissed Sashati off to think that if it weren’t for a single man, he’d be casting spells alongside his new allies.

“I wish I had been alive in those days. I would’ve slit his throat myself.”

“Get in line, Diyarta,” Sashati retorted.

About the Author 

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

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

Visit her website 

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn's Ruffian's

Social Media Links

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Review: A No-Strings Noel by Annabelle Jacobs

A week of no-strings fun in a winter wonderland setting. No consequences, no expectations, no hurt feelings. Right?


Finding his boyfriend in a compromising position leaves him with a week off work and no holiday to go on. A night of vodka, ice cream, and his sister’s sympathetic ear is the only way to deal with it. It’s also how he finds himself on holiday alone a few weeks later, at an English holiday village in the countryside, surrounded by Christmas cheer and happy families.

He’s expecting a week of relaxing days and early nights, doing his own thing, and taking some time for himself. And hopefully finding some festive spirit along the way, because it’s sorely lacking at the moment.

What he’s not expecting is Dom.

Coming to somewhere so familiar soothes his broken heart after yet another failed attempt at finding someone to settle down with. He’s ready. They never are.

Seeing a lost-looking stranger on the first day of his holiday triggers his protective instincts, so he steps in to give him some helpful advice. Who knew that advice would mean they end up spending the day and then the whole week together? But he figures a holiday fling is exactly what he needs to get through this slump: no expectations, no misunderstandings, no heartbreak.

Or that was the plan. He knows Henry wants more, but he doesn’t trust himself where his heart’s concerned. He doesn’t trust Henry not to break it.

A Christmas MM romance featuring a meet-cute, a sexy holiday fling, a meddling but awesome sister, a teeny bit of angst, and a festive HEA.

After finding his boyfriend in bed with another man, Henry decides to spend a week at a holiday village in the countryside.

Distraction comes in the form of burly experienced holiday village-goer Dom, who’s getting over his own recent breakup.

The two men agree to a week of no-strings fun, both in and outside of the bedroom. It’s a simple arrangement with some Christmas cheer.

I really liked the set-up of Dom and Henry’s relationship. It felt natural and believable. I liked how despite the two being strangers, Dom immediately tried to make Henry feel welcome, and how Henry felt at ease with him.

The obvious sexual tension also didn’t hurt. A holiday fling should bring the heat, even if it’s winter, after all!

I did wonder at one point whether the two had jumped into feelings a bit too quickly after their recent breakups. But I suppose that can’t be helped when you’re spending everyday (and night) together in your own little bubble of outdoor activities and bedroom shenanigans. And when the connection is just undeniable.

Their week together at the holiday park was cute, with sweet moments and lots of holiday fun. ‘Charming’ would be the word to describe them.

Where things went off the rails for me was the second half. So many misunderstandings and miscommunications, and much of it because they were texting.

Was it realistic for today’s world? Yes, probably. But was it also incredibly frustrating to read? Very much so.

But I wanted one of them to just smarten up and call the other. They could have avoided a lot of heartache, and it may have allowed for more page time to see the two together in the “real world” outside of the holiday park.

The epilogue was very sweet, though it felt a bit tacked on after a rushed happy ending.

Overall, while the first half of the book was quite enjoyable, the second half didn’t deliver on the holiday feels. Your mileage may vary!

A copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Holiday List (The Script Club #4) by Lane Hayes

Join author Lane Hayes and IndiGo Marketing in celebrating the release of The Holiday List (The Script Club #4)! Read more about the holiday single dad romance and enter in the giveaway! 

Title: The Holiday List

Series: The Script Club #4

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: December 3

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 39K

Genre: Romance, Nerd/Jock, MM Romance, Bisexual, Single Dad, Grumpy/Happy, Holiday Romance

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The Mars maestro, the single dad, and a wish list…


Boy, am I lucky! Finding a living situation with a houseful of passionate scientists just before the holidays is ideal in every possible way. As the newest member of the Script Club, I feel it’s important to step up and tackle the to-do list my friends would prefer to avoid. Item one, address the tutoring request from the neighborhood-hottie-slash-single-dad on the next block. I’ve got this!

Or do I?

Handsome, older, sporty gentlemen intimidate me. And Mr. McSwoony doesn’t like the holidays. This may be a daunting task.


What do you do when a new neighbor shows up on your doorstep with cookies and a wacky plan to spread holiday cheer? I don’t need cheer, but I could use help with some of the experiments my son wants to try. I know football, not science. Hopefully, I can talk Chet into a mutually beneficial trade. The only snag is that I’m seriously attracted to my local Mars expert. He’s unintentionally charming…in the very best way.

Don’t quote me, but this holiday elf with thick glasses and a mile-long list might be exactly what I need.

The Holiday List is an MM bisexual, geek/jock romance with a holiday twist featuring a lovable scientist and a single dad who’s probably on the naughty list!



“Who said I was lonely? I’m not lonely. I’m just tired of being with myself. That’s not the same thing,” I argued.

“Close enough. One thing that helps me fight the blues is an immediate change of scenery,” Chet pronounced with a wide grin.

“Thanks, Doc, but Linc is coming home this week. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t have to physically go anywhere. You can just switch up your routine and add—”

“Let me guess…holiday cheer?”

Chet beamed. “Yes.”

I had to give the guy credit…he was tenacious.

I couldn’t let him think he’d won too easily, though. I furrowed my brow, giving him my best cranky scowl, and huffed. “You really want to decorate my house?”

He frowned. “No. I want to reset your karma. And mine. You’ve done a good deed here tonight, and I owe you one in turn. I also owe my roommates for their kindness.”

“Putting up a tree is going to help your karma?” I snorted.

“And yours.”

Somehow, I doubted that, but I liked the idea of having an excuse to see him again. “Fine. You can decorate my house.”

Chet whooped as he jumped to his feet. “A nice noble fir would look perfect in that corner of your great room near the fireplace. But of course, closer to the window. We don’t want to worry about fire hazards. What’s your ornament situation? I’m happy to purchase some if needed. Simple red and silver balls are always nice and—”

“I’ve got plenty of balls.” I stood, testing my shoulder to be sure I didn’t do any real damage, as I met him at the door. “It’s getting late. We can talk about this later. You seem like the kind of Christmas elf who needs parameters.”

He snickered, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “There might be some truth to that statement.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not gonna want to wake up in a winter fuckin’ wonderland.”

“Right. Got it.”

I braced my hand on the doorknob, scanning the dimly lit foyer briefly. “Come over Saturday. We can talk about it then. And…you can meet Linc.”

Chet narrowed his eyes. Not gonna lie, his immediate transformation from skinny geek to bad-ass science guy was kinda hot.

“Is this trickery?”

“No, but it might be a good trade. We’ll see.” I shot a lopsided grin his way as I opened the door, pointing at the chair that knocked me on my ass. “This is not an adequate security system. I’ll give you my number. If anything seems suspicious or if you need anything, call me.”

Chet typed my contact info into his cell obediently, then pressed Call so I had his number too. Courtesy complete, he fixed me with a no-nonsense look. “Thank you. For the record, while I appreciate your help tonight, I didn’t agree to—”

“I know, I know.” I stared at him for a long moment.

This had to be one of the oddest yet most interesting nights I’d had in a while. This was probably a good time to remind myself that Chet was my neighbor. My much younger neighbor.

But damn it, he was tempting.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. It was featherlight touch, hardly a real kiss at all. It was just enough to make him blush. Chet’s cheeks pinkened, and a flush rose low on his neck.

“Mr. Rooney…”

“Sam,” I gently reminded him. “Good night.”

Don’t ask me how I did it, but I somehow managed not to turn around as I headed down the pathway and up the street to my house. My lips twitched in amusement, giving way to a smile that grew with every step. When I finally got home, I let it fly, grinning like a madman as I chomped on a rosemary shortbread cookie made by my own personal elf.

Was I vaguely alarmed at the concept of letting him put a bunch of holiday crap up in my house? Fuck, yes, I was. Hot kiss or not, nothing was going to happen between us. And I was okay with that. Mostly.

Maybe he was just the diversion I’d needed, ’cause hanging out at home for the next couple of weeks suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

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

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | BookBub


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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Spell by Nancy J. Hedin

Check out The Spell release blitz today from author Nancy J. Hedin and IndiGo Marketing! Discover more about the paranormal story and enter in the NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: The Spell

Author: Nancy J. Hedin

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/07/2021

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 46600

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, Lit, paranormal, lesbian, bisexual, magical realism, humor, painter, magic user, spell, real estate broker, police officer

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What if you could enter and roam around in any painting and then return to your own reality—or not? Would you do it? Would you sit in on the Lord’s Supper, snuggle the Mona Lisa, or have a painting made of something—or someone—in your past or future you long to visit?

Waverly Ames is given that ability through a spell book she finds while on vacation. What’s more, her brash, beautiful neighbor, friend, and dog-walker Jewel is a painter who can fulfil any commission. And then there’s Camille, the married woman who captured Waverly’s heart—the woman Waverly can’t get over.

What happens when lust meets magic? What happens when being somewhere, anywhere is as simple as a painting and the artist’s intention behind it? Can you truly have your heart’s desire?


The Spell
Nancy J. Hedin © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Broken Heart
Waverly Ames had regrets, but none bigger than losing her first love, Camille. She wept and petted the thin leather cover of the spell book that was her only remnant of their week-long love affair the year prior. That was, the only remnant if Waverly ignored her ruminations, incessant second-guessing, and full-body ache to be with Camille again. The affair had ended without goodbyes, promises, or any way to contact Camille. They each returned to their own lives: Camille returned to her suburban home with her husband and two daughters, and Waverly returned to…what? Her apartment in a co-op building, her former job in real estate, and her unrealized dream of being a poet. She felt robbed.

She heard a key snick in her front door lock, the door creak open and click closed again. Waverly’s dog, Stella, barked and bounded to the kitchen. Baby talk and padded footfalls in the galley kitchen followed by the rattle of condiments and juice bottles inside the door of her refrigerator as it was opened, robbed, and slammed shut again. She wiped her eyes, dabbed her nose, and hid the spell book under her couch pillow. She didn’t want Jewel to see her being a baby. How could she have any tears left? She’d cried every day since Camille had left her. Waverly had made a resolution to be a grown-up.

She supposed it was time. Hadn’t most people set aside their childish dreams and taken on the mantle of adulthood by age thirty-five? She took back her old job in real estate, which she hated, and she had bought a condo she couldn’t really afford. That was what grown-ups did, she told herself. Grown-ups did not plan to be poets, fall in love with married women, and live in month-to-month apartments based on whether there was a good vibe for writing poetry there. She hadn’t written a single poem since she moved into the place.

The cupboard doors clicked, dishes clinked, and silverware jangled against glassware. The noises used to frighten Waverly, make her hold her breath, look for her phone and a weapon, but over time, she only found the intruder annoying. It was just Jewel.

Jewel Cartwright, beautiful, brash, sinewy, younger than Waverly, on the early rungs of her third decade. Jewel lived in an unusually large studio apartment on the same floor as Waverly. Jewel’s space had no furniture other than a futon on the floor, but the windows were the size of garage doors and looked out on both downtown St. Paul and the bluffs and winding Mississippi River. Jewel was a painter. She sporadically worked a job restoring fine paintings, but mostly, Jewel painted her own work and filled her apartment with her paintings and the copies of other great paintings she replicated. She never grocery shopped and was always hungry. Shortly after Waverly bought her place and only days after she’d met her, Jewel insisted she was the best person to fill the dog-walking job Waverly posted on the co-op message board.

Jewel became Waverly’s official walker for Stella, Waverly’s seventy-pound shepherd-lab mix. From that point on, Jewel had a key to Waverly’s place, but came in at non-dog-walking times—no knock, no advanced warning.

Jewel stepped out from the kitchen and scanned Waverly’s face. “What? What’s that look? You don’t want me, change the locks.” It was complicated. Waverly did want her to walk Stella, so she put up with Jewel coming in at her leisure and often making herself a sandwich or eating Waverly’s leftovers. Stella, too, was eating a giant sandwich but not before she had peed a trickle on the floor in her excitement to see Jewel.

Waverly didn’t want Jewel to see her crying again.

“What’s wrong?” Jewel asked.

“Allergies.” Waverly blew her nose. “Why does my dog like you better than me?”

“Duh, I take her on walks, let her eat whatever she wants, and I tell her adventure stories where she is the femme fatale, the secret agent, the top dog.” Jewel kissed Stella on the head and stared at Waverly. “Don’t tell me you have been crying about Camille again.”

Jewel sat. Stella jumped up on the loveseat beside her as Jewel unloaded her stash. Once her hands were free to rub Stella’s ear, Jewel again talked baby talk to Stella. “Your mom is a silly goose obsessing about that naughty Camille when she could have lovely Jewel.”

Stella’s hair wafted into the air and onto the rug, furniture, and Waverly’s black jeans.

“Stella, tell Jewel to mind her own business.” Waverly sat up straight on the couch, reached back to snag her russet-brown hair, twisted it in a coil on her head, and secured it with a pencil. She took deep breaths. She noticed that Jewel stared at her breasts as she chewed. Waverly took the book out from beneath the pillow and held it in front of her chest. “Are you staring at my tits?”

“Cows have tits. I’m staring at your perfectly lovely breasts. They’re like warm kittens or hamsters under your shirt. Can I touch them?”

“No.” Waverly threw the spell book at Jewel and immediately regretted it. She didn’t want to damage the book, and she didn’t want anyone else touching it.

Jewel ducked. The book hit the wall, ricocheted back, and lay at her feet. She picked it up with her free hand. “Oh, Christ, haven’t you burned this thing yet?” Jewel crammed part of a pastrami and cheddar on sourdough sandwich in her mouth and gave the remainder to the dog. Stella planted herself on the rug like Jewel might change her mind and ask for the sandwich back.

Jewel stood and unloaded some of her plunder onto the coffee table, smearing the latest issue of Architectural Digest. She flopped down again on the love seat and flung her leg over the armrest without any embarrassment that the skirt she wore was entirely too short and she wore no underwear. “I’ll burn it for you. I have a lighter in my pocket. I could torch the thing right on this table.”

“No, you can’t.” Waverly tossed a throw blanket to Jewel. “Cover your junk! I can’t think with genitals in my face.”

“Excuse me, but I have no junk only jewels! Besides, you could use some genitals in your face so you’d stop obsessing about Camille.”

Stella burped. Jewel burped.

“You don’t understand.”

“What’s to understand?”

That was the thing, really. No one seemed to understand how important Waverly’s first real love affair had been. Maybe no one understood because they hadn’t had Waverly’s beginning. They hadn’t been orphaned at age six, shuttled between foster homes until finally, Waverly’s mother’s sister relented and said she would “take the girl.”

Who else knew of the shock of losing parents being compounded by being placed with loud, disinterested foster parents with homes that smelled of urine and Hamburger Helper? After three of these nightmares, Waverly finally landed where her parents had informally and unofficially wanted her to be if, God forbid, anything happened to them. God should have forbidden all of it, starting with the car accident that had killed her birth parents and continuing into Waverly’s school years in the care of cold, withholding, puritanical custodial parents who rationed their affections.

Add to that Waverly wasn’t her aunt and uncle’s birth child, and she didn’t want to be a nurse or schoolteacher. She wanted to be a cowboy briefly, and then she wanted to be a poet. She didn’t want to marry a man. She was attracted to women.

She was an orphaned misfit like an extra piece of hardware in the IKEA box. She didn’t fit anywhere. College was a dream in most respects. She was expected to be independent. In college being queer wasn’t a big deal. It made her almost interesting. She’d had girlfriends before—brief flirtations, one-night stands, and brief stints of cohabitation in college and graduate school that faded like fad diets and new year’s resolutions. Of course, Waverly clung to Camille. Camille was the first woman who had loved her with tender passion. Camille had swaddled Waverly in attention and adoration as Waverly nuzzled in Camille’s arms, drinking her in with her eyes.

Jewel dug a squished package of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls from her tank top. “How many people do you know who can hide chocolate-covered, crème-filled snack cakes in their rack?”

“I don’t know many.” Waverly shook her head. “Don’t give any of that to Stella.”

“I know dogs can’t do chocolate. Anyway—” Jewel licked her fingers. “What’s to understand? You met a woman, a married woman, a straight married woman, I might add…”

“Camille was not straight, I can assure you that.” Waverly’s head bobbled a bit, and she gave an impish grin.

“I know, I know, you made love every day, many times a day. You’ve told me a million times.” Jewel drank milk directly from the carton—Waverly’s carton. “I’m telling you, Waverly, plenty of straight women won’t say no to a week of orgasms independent of some guy slamming against them. But Waves, she went back to her husband and left you with what? A hole in your heart and that dumb book. You need to burn that book and cauterize the hole in your heart so that you can heal. Give the book to Stella as a chew toy. I gave her a Bible and two self-help books. She’ll be shitting psalms, proverbs, and platitudes for days.”


NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Nancy Hedin, a Minnesota writer, has been a pastor and bartender (at the same time). She has been a stand-up comic and a mental health crisis worker (at the same time). She wants readers to know that every story she writes begins with her hearing voices.

In 2018 Nancy’s debut novel, Bend was named one of twenty-five books to read for Pride Month Barnes and Noble, and was named Debut Novel of the Year by Golden Crown Literary Society and Foreword Indies Honorable Mention for GLBT Adult Novel of the Year.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Love on the Rise by A.C. Thomas

Author A.C. Thomas and IndiGo Marketing share new contemporary holiday romance info for Love on the Rise! Find out more and enter in the NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Love on the Rise

Author: A.C. Thomas

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/30/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 42100

Genre: Contemporary Holiday, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, gay, Christmas holiday, Italian bakery/ baker, banker, soulmates/ love at first sight, money woes, small-town community, pastry love

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Matteo Leonelli is getting by, running his old-fashioned family bakery in the heart of Belleview, North Carolina. He’s struggled to keep the place going since his parents passed, and his cakes don’t taste the same without someone to share them.

Then, Matteo meets Ethan, a thoughtful, handsome artist, who sees Matt in a way no one has before, who touches him as if it’s a privilege. One date, and Matt is in love, dancing among clouds of meringue as he bakes up a storm to prepare for the holidays.

Ethan Price is getting by, running his family banking firm. He had to abandon his dreams of becoming an artist, but he gives it his best effort in his father’s memory. Then, he meets a man who makes his stress melt away like butter on warm bread. Matt, who smells like cookies and looks like a Caravaggio painting. Ethan is in love, head over heels as he rushes through the business of the day so he can see Matt again. He plans to sweep him off his adorable feet.

Disaster strikes as Matt’s bakery loans come due during the holidays. The news is just as shocking as the man who delivers it. Ethan isn’t the sensitive artist of Matt’s dreams, but a cold-hearted banker, and Matt’s heart crumbles like shortbread. As Christmas draws near, Matt works to save his bakery, while Ethan works to win him back. Beneath the sparkling lights of bakery windows displaying holiday treats, they must decide: can Ethan reconcile his passion for art and his love for Matt with his obligations to the family business? Can Matt forgive Ethan and open his heart to a love so sweet it outshines his pastries?

With determination, well-placed mistletoe, and a dash of cinnamon, they just might.


Love on the Rise
A.C. Thomas © 2021
All Rights Reserved

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and Matteo Leonelli had finally gotten laid.

He whistled some Sinatra as he patted down the dough for the next morning, then covered it with a clean flour cloth to rise overnight.

Suppressing a yawn, he piped the last batch of the cupcakes of the day with lemon cream. Lemon was the theme because Matt felt like a tart in the best way possible. Sweet and sharp and bright with satisfaction. And, notably, like the guy who had gone home with his date the night before.

Nothing could bring him down, not even the slow grip of sleepiness tugging on his heels. Matt’s date had kept him up all night, and he’d only gotten a few hours of rest. Matt had stayed over, even though he needed to be in the bakery by 4 a.m. to start the bread and pastry for the day.

It had been worth it.

He could have happily worked all day on zero hours of sleep if his date, Ethan, hadn’t curled up around him after round two, long limbs wrapped as tightly as the wisteria vines that climbed the bakery porch. He had been big and warm and whispered sweet nothings into Matt’s sweaty hair until they’d both fallen asleep.

Matt hadn’t even minded being the little spoon, although sometimes it rubbed him the wrong way when people just assumed. They thought since Matt was small, that was where he belonged. Ethan had never commented on his size. In any measure.

Matt was short and compact, not svelte by any means, but he wasn’t muscular either. He existed somewhere in the soft, gray area in between. Strong enough to haul fifty-pound bags of flour but equipped with a layer of padding from tip to toes.

That used to bother him, but as he’d gotten older, he’d only grown more comfortable with himself. He didn’t worry about his perpetual lack of abs so much anymore. He was a baker, not an athlete.

Sure, things had been rough when he was a kid, and his classmates had called him names like “doughboy.” But now? He was finally comfortable with himself.

Comfortable enough to fuck with the lights on.

All the better to appreciate the view of his partner. And, oh, what a spectacular view it had been.

Ethan was classically handsome, like an Old Hollywood heartthrob, and deceptively willowy in his clothing, but all wiry muscle underneath. His height merely gave the impression of slenderness because he was so stretched out. But there was plenty of him to hold on to.

His broad shoulders had provided a firm, solid ledge for Matt to cling to, and his big hands had caressed Matt’s few extra pounds as if they were something to covet, a bonus in his eyes. As if there weren’t an inch of Matt that was extra or overflow. It had felt as if he truly appreciated every ounce of him.

Matt could count on the thumbs of both hands how many times a lover had treated him like that, as though he were nothing less than irresistible.

It was addictive.

So today, Matt was floating on a cloud, lighter than his nonna’s famous meringue. He bit back a grin as his phone buzz-buzz-buzzed with a text notification, the fifth one from Ethan since Matt had reluctantly crawled out of his hotel room before dawn.

The guy had no chill, but Matt wasn’t exactly complaining.

Can’t stop thinking about you. It’s impossible to focus on work when I know you smell like cinnamon sugar and sex. I just want to lick you all over to see if I can find the source.

Oh, cheese crepes, that was hot.

His cheeks burned after reading that one, hotter than the antique brick oven at his back.

Matt fanned himself surreptitiously while he checked the clock. All he had left for the day was a meeting with the bank, and then he could leave the bakery to Miz Rose to run upstairs and get ready for his date.

His second date in as many days. Matt had big plans. He was even going to exfoliate, and he didn’t do that for just anybody. He hoped Ethan would appreciate the snickerdoodle scent of his sugar scrub.

Neither of them had been able to pretend they didn’t want to see each other immediately after last night. It was refreshing to meet someone who laid all his cards on the table, who didn’t play games.

Maybe Matt was acting like a lovestruck fool, but so was Ethan. They were in the same ridiculous romantic boat, and he had never felt better. He was finally lucky in love. It had only taken a decade.

He hurried to finish the cupcakes, prepping for the lunch rush before his meeting with the bank. The bakery usually flooded with locals around noon, and he didn’t want to run out of cupcakes again. Last time, the lovely ladies of Central Presbyterian had threatened a riot.

The year-round jingle bells attached to the bakery door rang out their cheerful call, and Matt set down his pastry bag to turn with a smile on his face.

A smile that immediately froze once he saw who had walked through the door.


He looked much less approachable than he had the night before, in his soft sweater and jeans, rangy limbs sprawled around the table to brush up against Matt wherever he could, charming smile framed by an artful scattering of dark stubble.

Now, he wore a black suit and carried a briefcase. A man of the exact same height and coloring followed him, dressed so similarly he’d be identical if not for the bald patch on his head contrasting with Ethan’s thick chestnut waves.

Ethan stumbled, staring wide-eyed across the shop at Matt as his companion walked right into him with an irritated curse.

Ethan’s pale skin flushed pink as he stepped aside and avoided Matt’s searching gaze. Instead, he lifted his briefcase to the nearest tabletop to fiddle with the latch.

What on earth was he doing here? Matt hadn’t given him the address to the bakery. They hadn’t even exchanged last names last night, the chemistry between them so strong they’d barely finished their meal before stumbling love-drunk to Ethan’s hotel room.

After that, they’d been too busy for conversation.

Sure, they’d talked a little at dinner, but all Matt really recalled was the insistent thump of his heart when Ethan had first raised clear gray eyes to his. The low rumble of Ethan’s voice as he’d mentioned his hotel with a searching glance.

The scrape of wallpaper against Matt’s shoulders when Ethan had pinned him to the wall the moment the door clicked shut behind them.

All memory of their light conversation had faded in comparison.

The balding suit held out his hand with a perfunctory approximation of a smile. “Mr. Leonelli? Preston Price. We’re here representing Price Banking. Where should we conduct the meeting?”

Matt wiped his flour-dredged hands on his apron, then caught Price’s grimace as he gingerly shook his hand. Afterward, Price held it slightly out from his body as though he didn’t wish to touch any of his belongings until he had washed it first.

Ethan just continued to stare into his briefcase as if it held state secrets.


NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

A.C. Thomas left the glamorous world of teaching preschool for the even more glamorous world of staying home with her toddler. Between the diaper changes and tea parties, she escapes into fantastical worlds, reading every romance available and even writing a few herself. She devours books of every flavor—science fiction, historical, fantasy—but always with a touch of romance because she believes there is nothing more fantastical than the transformative power of love.

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Opposed Desires by Katherine McIntyre

 Author Katherine McIntyre and Other Worlds Ink visit on the Opposed Desires blog tour! Find out more and enter in the Amazon gift card giveaway!

Opposed Desires - Katherine McIntyre

Katherine McIntyre has a new FF contemporary romance out: Opposed Desires. And there's a giveaway!

Closet Romantic falling for the Hookup Queen? Never gonna happen… until one memorable vacation changes it all.

When it comes to women, Aubrey Moore believes in no-strings-attached hookups and keeping things simple. On her beach trip, her plan is clear—hit the bars and find single hotties. What she doesn't bargain on is the phone call from her sister. Distraught, Aubrey would like to have a breakdown in private, but the one woman who’s never fallen for her slick lines takes her by surprise and blurs her simple rules.

The last thing owner of the Renegades bar, Selina Beckett, expects to see on vacation is Aubrey Moore in the middle of a personal crisis. Every time they meet, they clash—whether Aubrey was picking up women at Selina’s bar or flirting to try and get her attention. Selina’s not interested in flings, cheaters, or womanizers, so she’s made a point to avoid Aubrey at all costs. But this raw, real side of Aubrey convinces her to bend those rules, just a little.

The more Selina gets to know Aubrey beyond the bravado, the more she begins to fall. But each day closer to the end of their vacation marks a return to reality—one where this entanglement between them won’t survive.

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Opposed Desires Meme

They reached the edge of the boardwalk, the sand and the sea stretching before them in a pale strip that clashed with the inky darkness of the waters. Something loosened in Selina’s chest at the sight. The ocean always calmed her, especially at night when most of the daytime rabble had retreated. She was used to being surrounded by people, but sometimes she preferred the solitude.

“I’m sorry for dragging you away from your friends,” Aubrey said, loosening her ponytail to run her fingers through her hair. The moonlight highlighted her deep brown strands, and the way they fell down to her shoulders made her seem a little softer than the sharp, pointed woman Selina’d come to know. She found this side of Aubrey far more alluring.

“I could’ve done this by myself,” Aubrey admitted. “I just lost my mind a little bit back there.”

“I wouldn’t have left if I didn’t want to.” Selina shrugged. “Bars aren’t really my scene.”

“Said the bar owner.” Aubrey gave her the side-eye. “Why even own one then?”

Selina swung her arms by her side, staring at the half moon overhead. It glowed with pearlescent promise, a steadiness she’d always longed for. “Spend your whole life traveling from one town to the next and you get desperate to set down roots. I wanted to create a safe space for folks like me, and I needed to stay in one place. Renegades ensured that.”

Aubrey shook her head, a throaty laugh escaping her throat. “I’ve known you for four years now, and I’m pretty sure that’s the most you’ve ever shared about yourself.”

“Well, we’re having a truce tonight,” Selina said. “Tomorrow I can go back to loathing you, and we can return to the usual witty repartee.”

Aubrey pointed at herself. “Me? Witty? Glad you think so, doll. I don’t keep track of half of the things that leave my mouth.”

“Good to know,” Selina murmured, a smile nudging her lips. The earnest note in Aubrey’s voice had her warming up to the woman far faster than she had in years. The lack of an agenda helped too. Selina slipped off her sandals to hold them in her hand, walking barefoot on the sandy shore. “Won’t the girls be wondering where you went?”

Aubrey shrugged. “They’ll assume I took someone home. It’s my MO when I pull the vanishing act.”

“That sounds pretty lonesome.” The words slipped out before she could help herself. Selina licked her lips, not knowing what to say. The salt air wove past her, caressing her senses.

“Different bed every night? How could that be lonely?” Aubrey joked, yet her voice scraped over the words like a tire crunching uneven rocks. She cast Selina a sideways glance. “Maybe a little,” she admitted, her dark eyes somber in the surrounding dark. The slight gleam from the moonlight only enhanced that sharp, vibrant beauty. This version of the woman, framed by moonlight and unguarded with her hair down, struck Selina as far more gorgeous than the sweet-talker she regularly saw at the bar.

Aubrey bent down to slide off her sneakers, and Selina couldn’t help but follow the motion. Those long legs were on full display, all corded muscle and defined calves, and the red shorts she wore showcased a gorgeous sculpted ass. Selina never argued that the woman was hot—Aubrey Moore undeniably, unequivocally raised her temperature, but she was also the exact sort of person Selina needed to avoid.

She wanted someone to settle down with. Someone who wouldn’t get bored, or cheat, or ditch her when the routine got too monotonous. Been there, done that. She’d learned her lessons well and committed them to heart.

Author Bio

Katherine McIntyre

Katherine McIntyre is a feisty chick with a big attitude despite her short stature. She writes stories featuring snarky women, ragtag crews, and men with bad attitudes—and there's an equally high chance for a passionate speech thrown into the mix. As an eternal geek and tomboy who’s always stepped to her own beat, she’s made it her mission to write stories that represent the broad spectrum of people out there, from different cultures and races to all varieties of men and women.

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