Release Blitz: Everything About You by Jeanne St. James

Author Jeanne St. James and Gay Book Promotions celebrate new release, Everything About You! Find out more about the second chance romance today!
 

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Everything About You: A Second Chance Gay Romance

Author: Jeanne St. James

Publisher: Double-J Romance, Inc.

Cover Artist/Photographer/Cover Model: Golden Czermak @ FuriousFotog

Release Date: May 7, 2022

Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Second Chance, Friends to Lovers

Themes: Forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 334 print pages

It is a standalone story.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Amazon   |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Blurb

It was your smile.

Your laugh.

The color of your eyes.

The way you looked at me when no one else was looking.

The way you held me.

The way you kissed me.

It was everything about you I loved.

The flattening of that smile.

The silence of your laughter.

The loss of your lips.

The distance you created.

The way you left.

The way you destroyed it all.

The way you destroyed me.

Destroyed us.

It was everything about you I hated.

Everything about you.

I wanted.

Needed.

Hoped for.

And that day you not only broke my heart.

You f*cking crushed it.

Note: Everything About you is a standalone gay (M/M) second chance romance. Please refer to the content note at the beginning of the book before buying or reading. You can access that page by using Amazon’s “Look Inside” feature or downloading the free sample. This info can also be found on my website. As always, this book doesn’t have a cliffhanger and an HEA is guaranteed.

Excerpt

I stabbed the up arrow button on the lobby elevator in my building. My breath quickly returning back to normal and the sweat starting to dry on my body. I looked forward to washing that sweat and grime from my skin once I got upstairs.

Maybe even doing more than that under the warm spray of the shower.

The numbers lit up one after the other as the elevator car traveled down from the sixth floor.

Ding. Five.

Ding. Four.

Ding. Three.

The buzz and click of the outer lobby door unlocking behind me had me glancing over my shoulder to see if I needed to hold the elevator for whoever just entered.

I pulled the sweaty T-shirt from over my shoulder where I had tossed it, and used it to wipe my face, because clearly I was seeing things. Sweat must have gotten into my eyes. Or maybe I was lightheaded because I hadn’t eaten anything since much earlier today.

Or…

Or…  I was really seeing who I thought I was.

But that couldn’t be. I had to be imagining it. Imagining him.

Maybe I was having a stroke or some medical issue and needed to sit down. It was true that I hadn’t been running outside as much as I should be and it could be my blood sugar reacting to the intense cardio session.

Or I was simply delusional.

The man who had walked through the front entrance paused in the vestibule lined with the residents’ mailboxes. He appeared as if he had just rolled out of bed, even though he wore a suit. It was wrinkled like he’d slept on a park bench.

He couldn’t be homeless since he had the code to the front entrance and that was changed once a month. That meant he had to be a current resident, even though I had never spotted him in the building before.

However, not only did he look out of sorts, he was talking to himself. Just like the homeless man who often slept on a bench in Point State Park. The one who occasionally bathed in the fountain and also fished out the change thrown in by tourists and locals alike.

Funny, I never once had my wish come true after throwing a penny into a fountain, but maybe it worked for other people.

I couldn’t hear what the man was saying because of the second set of doors separating the vestibule from the lobby, but even with his head tipped down, I could clearly see his lips moving. He could be wearing earbuds and talking to someone on his cell phone.

Or he could be having a full-blown conversation with himself as he dug deep into his pants pocket. Most likely for his mailbox key.

Even after drying the sweat from around my eyes, he still looked so familiar.

Too familiar.

The elevator dinged as it arrived on the main floor and the doors whooshed open. Mr. and Mrs. Callahan from the fourth floor stepped out with their little yappy, ankle-biter Pomeranian, Mr. Pibbles.

I side-stepped to give the older couple room to pass and also so that little fucker didn’t take a chunk out of my ankle.

Mrs. Callahan’s gaze swept over me and I knew exactly why.

I was wearing nothing but black silky shorts that, when sweaty, clung to my assets, along with running sneakers, ankle-high sports socks and a Penn State U baseball cap.

It also didn’t help that my skin wasn’t a perfect shade of pale and I sported a wide assortment of tattoos covering my torso and arms.

However, it wasn’t the first time they’d seen me after a run and, unfortunately for them, it wouldn’t be the last.

Mr. Callahan held the elevator door for me even though it looked like he was sucking on a lemon while doing so.

They were lovely people.

By lovely, I meant judgmental assholes.

Even so, we needed to coexist since we all lived in the same building. Instead of flipping him the bird, I gave him a nod and said, “I’m not going up yet, but thanks,” then took a quick glance over my shoulder again toward the vestibule.

The newest resident must’ve found his key since the metal door to one of the mailboxes now hung wide open while he rifled through a fistful of mail.

Shaking his head, he continued to talk to himself. The only time he glanced up was when the Callahans walked past him with Mr. Pibbles yapping in warning. Mr. Pibbles didn’t like strangers.

Hell, Mr. Pibbles didn’t like anyone except for the Callahans. And even that was questionable.

As soon as the couple and their orange yap rat stepped out onto the sidewalk, the man shut the mailbox and turned…

And the revolving Earth came to a complete and abrupt stop, as if someone had jerked up the emergency brake.

About the Author

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today, Amazon and international bestselling romance author who loves writing about strong women and alpha males. She was only thirteen when she first started writing. Her first published piece was an erotic short story in Playgirl magazine. She then went on to publish her first romance novel in 2009. She is now an author of over fifty contemporary romances. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages, including interracial. She also writes M/M paranormal romance under the name J.J. Masters.

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Cover Reveal: Jamison (Maxim #1) by A.N. Waugh

Author A.N. Waugh and Gay Book Promotions share the cover for upcoming contemporary romance, Jamison (Maxim #1)! Discover more about the new series today!

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Jamison: A Maxim Novel

Author: A.N. Waugh

Cover Artist: Midnight Designs

Release Date: June 7, 2022

Genre: Contemporary MM Romance

Trope/s: Friends to lovers, second chance romance, rockstar

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: approx 45 000 words

It is book one in a new series. It does not end on a cliffhanger for the couple, but there are some unresolved conflicts that will reappear later in the series.

Goodreads

Pre-Order Links

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

Blurb 

Vance
Jamison Black. Lead singer for the band Maxim, and my first love. He broke my heart to follow his dream. Now, six years after the heartbreak, he is my job. I’ve worked hard for this internship and to get close to him again, but it doesn’t take long to realize we can’t be anything more than friends. Not when Maxim is so close to the success they’ve been chasing all this time.

Jamison
I never knew how much I missed Vance Martin until I saw him in the last place I expected. He is my heart. Always has been, always will be. I’m his client, and he’s determined to keep me in the friend zone. A place I refuse to stay. I might have left my heart behind six years ago, but I won’t let him go again.


Jamison is the first book in the Maxim series. A MM Rockstar, best friends to lovers, second chance romance with two stubborn main characters, a too observant, witty and flamboyant interfering coworker, entertaining bandmates and friends, and a fake girlfriend who has forgotten her love isn’t real.

Excerpt 

“Your music has garnered you a growing fan club, and I think you’re on the verge of hitting it big.” Lance Macallister, owner of Twisted Records, always starts these meetings the same: compliments on our music—because let’s face it, we’re good—followed by a reprimand for our behavior. Or, more accurately, Alex’s behavior.

“But?” I ask, prompting the reaming we’re all here for.

“But,”—he meets each of our stares—“we have to do something about the band’s image if you want to go any further in your careers. Ronnie spotted your talent that night six years ago, but talent only gets you so far.”

Ronnie offers me a polite smile. The man has been our manager since we won a battle of the bands contest in some hole in the wall bar, but he lacks any of the aggressiveness needed to keep a band of young twenty-somethings in line. Especially as he’s not that much older than us.

“What do you need us to do? I thought me dating Marcy was enough to eclipse any bad publicity coming our way.” The last time our lead guitarist, Alexander Gregory, pulled a stunt that got us called into this conference room, he’d trashed a hotel room and punched a bellhop. Macallister’s solution was to throw the popular up-and-coming actress, Marcy Dixon, at me. By redirecting the attention to my relationship with the popular starlet—no matter how fake it is—Macallister had kept Alex’s destructive behavior from the press. I’d do anything for Maxim, and it’s not as though pretending to date Marcy is a hardship. She’s gorgeous, and the sex is good. Our relationship may be fake, but I’m still a man with needs. Marcy understands that it’s all for show with a little fun on the side to ease the tension once in a while.

“It is. For now. But you’re gaining in popularity with your new single, ‘For Tonight’. It won’t be long until your faces are all over the entertainment rags. And when that happens, they’ll show the bad alongside the good.” Jude Thomas, Macallister’s friend and business partner, glares at us like the heathens he likely considers us. The man hasn’t had a smile for us since we met. Ronnie assures me he likes us, but that’s hard to believe when all he does is look down his nose at us and glare before rushing from the room after each meeting.

“Jude is right. We need to keep ahead of any potential disasters,” Macallister says. Meaning we needed to get Alex to fall in line before we lose the label any money. “I’ve hired a PR team specifically for Maxim. They’ll be here in two days for introductions before you leave for tour.”

“Tour?” Anderson—Anders—Cartwright, our keyboardist, asks.

“Yes. You’ll be opening for Tainted as they tour the country. I’ve also taken the liberty of hiring a stylist. He’ll be heading on tour with you and the PR team.”

I look at my bandmates to gauge their reactions to the news. Alex looks pissed. What else is new? Anders looks indifferent, ready to go with the flow of whatever we decide to do. Thierry Lachlan, Maxim’s drummer, and Rierdan Hughes, bassist, are both looking to me, concern for the band’s future clear on their faces.

“I’m sorry, okay.” Alex grits out the words between clenched teeth.

“You’re always sorry, Mr. Gregory,” Jude throws back at him, his tone clearly saying he doesn’t believe Alex deserves another chance.

“Which is why you will be required to attend anger management sessions. Since we can’t postpone the tour, they will be held virtually and to ensure you follow through, we have assigned a member of the PR team to attend alongside you.” Macallister gathers the papers sitting on the table in front of him. “I’ll see you in two days, gentlemen. Try not to get into any trouble before then.”

Jude hightails it from the conference room while McAllister and Ronnie leisurely take their leave. No one says a word until the door closes behind them.

“Fuck! Alex, you need to tame whatever the hell issues you have.” Thierry shoves a hand into his dark blond mane, gripping the roots and dislodging the hair tie holding his bun in place.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but Thierry’s right. If you don’t get yourself under control, Maxim will suffer for it.” Even Anders, the usually carefree, go with the flow guy, is noticeably frustrated with our guitarist.

“I think this anger management Macallister has planned will be good for you, Alex,” I tell him, and I mean it. He’s always been the angriest of our group, but the past few years have seen him move into a wave of hostility I can only describe as self-hatred.

Alex grunts his disapproval but doesn’t argue. He wants Maxim to be successful as much as the rest of us. After six years, we’re finally getting a chance to prove we’re worthy of all Twisted Records has put in to get us here.

Rierdan slams his palm down on the table, jerking my attention to the smile stretching his face. “We’re going on tour. Maxim is going to be headlining for fucking Tainted!”

About the Author 

A.N. Waugh is an author of MM/MMM+ romances, a pansexual mess, and a firm believer that love is love.

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Review: The Bandalore (Pitch & Sickle #1) by D.K. Girl

1885 London, England
Silas Mercer died once. He’d rather not do it again.


On his return to the world of the living, Silas finds himself in the hands of the mysterious Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn.
The Order has London society clamouring for their services, with tarot readings, seances and exorcisms among their arcane specialities.
Now they seem intent on making Silas their newest recruit.
But they want far more from him than cheap parlour tricks.
When the Order partners him with the scandalous rake, Tobias Astaroth, Silas's new life is turned on its head in more ways than one. Tobias is quick-tempered, dangerously charming, and far more than the man he seems.

For Silas, surviving what the Order has planned for him will be a challenge.
But finding a way to survive Tobias Astaroth could prove impossible.


This is my first official gaslamp fantasy - a trope that’s typically set in Victorian or Edwardian times and where the existence of the supernatural is known. I liken it as a fancy term for magical historical alternate universe. Regardless, if this sounds enticing to you, I doubt this story will disappoint.

This starts out with Silas, newly awakened from the dead with no memories of his past life. All he knows is that he’s technically been given a second chance by the Order of the Dawn, a mysterious group that supposedly fights supernatural evil. Silas has officially been promoted to a member of this exclusive “club”, but no one is telling him anything, and he’s pretty much thrown into the deep end to see if he sinks or swims when it comes to manifesting any abilities.

Well… it looks like the guy can see, interact, and put to rest spirits, and Silas is quickly put onto the Order’s roster of appointments to investigate and handle potential nefarious situations.

There’s just one snag. Silas finds himself unceremoniously paired with Tobias Asteroff, blatant unapologetic hedonist who has a very mysterious past, along with unclear reasons why he’s saddled with the Order and why he must do as they bid. It’s an incongruent and unharmonious pairing, but neither has a choice in the matter.

What I will say about this book is that it has an intriguing start. The Order and its objective remain to be seen. There’s religious undertones that have been given new meaning, and this promises plenty of magic and supernatural beings that all have yet to be fully revealed. I will also say that this develops at quite the slow pace with only a few scenes of intense action with a good dose of horror at the end. Silas truly is a fumbling insecure gentle giant which might endear most but also aggravate others, and I often found him lacking in ”oomph” where Tobias is all bad boy brimstone with an undeniably charming facade and a mean streak of carelessness to go with it. Such a contrast between two people forced to work together is admittedly, interesting enough to see how this develops into love. Be forewarned, there’s not a hint of romance in this first installment yet - only snippets of lusty thoughts.

Overall, well written with character flaws that subtracted some points from me personally. However again, if you like supernatural historical MM, then I do think this garners checking out. Hope you enjoy!



Cover Reveal: The Fractured Fallen (D’Vaire #29) by Jessamyn Kingley

Author Jessamyn Kingley and Gay Book Promotions share the new cover for upcoming fated mate romance, The Fractured Fallen (D’Vaire #29)! Read more about the second chance romance today!

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: The Fractured Fallen (D’Vaire, Book 29)

Author and Publisher: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: May 19, 2022

Genres: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes: Fated mates

Themes: Love, second chances, overcoming obstacles

Heat Rating:  3 flames   

Length: 89 083 words

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

Goodreads Series Link

For any chance at love, they must first be willing to trust.

Blurb

A proud fallen knight, Gentry Patterson likes to take people under his wing. Gifted with an easygoing nature, he makes friends effortlessly and, thanks to his love of cooking, often invites his inner circle over for meals. Gentry’s favorite week of the year is the annual retreat for his race, where he’s reunited with the many friends and colleagues he’s met through the years. The only thing that would enrich his existence is his mate, but he has yet to meet him.

Newly resurrected Tobias Kinsler wants to put his training behind him and make his superiors proud. However, Tobias is struggling. He keeps it to himself because he lacks people he’s willing to trust. With a mere few months of life under his belt, Tobias attends the fallen knights’ annual retreat and discovers his other half.

The two men have a sizzling connection from the start and waste no time binding their souls. Unfortunately, they will soon learn that secrets lurk beneath their growing friendship, and those secrets fracture the tenuous bond between them. As they chart an uncertain future, Gentry and Tobias must decide if they’re still willing to honor Fate.

Excerpt

Toby was staring aimlessly when there was a distant ding of an elevator. To his shock, his dick went rock hard, and the thick, pungent smell of honeysuckle filled his nose. His head whipped to the right, and he saw that a brown-haired man who was probably three or four inches over six feet was stalking toward him. 

As the fallen knight moved closer, Toby admired his broad shoulders and the sexy smile on his handsome face. Within a few feet of Toby, the man’s grin grew broader, lighting up his hazel eyes. He was Toby’s mate, and Toby was elated, but frightened.

“Hi, I’m Gentry,” he said as he stopped next to Toby.

“I’m Toby.”

“I’ve always been excited about attending the retreat, but I had no idea I’d meet my mate here,” Gentry remarked.

Toby loved the light smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks. “It’s my first one.”

“You’ll love it. I’ll help make sure of that. The line’s moving,” Gentry remarked as he snatched Toby’s suitcase from him, flustering the fallen knight who was so unused to being noticed as anything more than a disaster.

“I feel like I’ve been standing here forever.”

Gentry leaned close, and Toby closed his eyes to better enjoy the honey and citrus scent of his gift from Fate. 

“I got here super early so I could avoid this line,” Gentry explained.

“I’ll have to remember that in the future.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”

The confidence in his voice relaxed Toby, and he grinned at Gentry. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“We need to exchange numbers and coordinate our schedules for the week.”

“I guess you’re okay with the fact that Fate picked us to be together.”

With a nod, Gentry winked at him. 

“You’re gorgeous, and I’ve always wanted a fallen knight for a mate. You get my job. We already have a ton in common even though we just met. But I want to learn everything about you. And I do mean everything.”

Although Toby had little sexual experience, Gentry’s flirting was obvious enough that he couldn’t miss his interest. 

“I’d like to tell you everything,” Toby commented softly. 

Forcing himself to look away from the pretty hazel eyes, Toby was somehow unsurprised by the twenty-three in roman numerals on Gentry’s shirt. It figured that he’d be paired with a possibly ancient and clearly remarkable fallen knight. His fear intensified, but Toby trusted Fate. 

“You’re frowning. You okay?” Gentry asked.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of lines,” Toby lied.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you registered and settled upstairs.”

There was something about the way Gentry had swooped right in and inserted himself into Toby’s world that appealed to him. 

“You’re a protective person, aren’t you?” Toby asked.

“I do like to feed my friends and help them with whatever they need.”

Toby shuffled forward again as the line picked up a little speed and tried to handle the wealth of emotions racing through him. It was imperative that Toby set aside his issues and focus on how lucky he was. Not only was Gentry handsome, but he was also clearly interested. His smile didn’t falter, and although they knew nothing about each other, Gentry’s presence soothed. 

“That’s good. I can’t cook.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you get to eat like a king. You’ll have to tell me all your favorites.”

“I’ve discovered that there isn’t much I don’t like, but I love a good steak.”

“Fate matched us perfectly. I can grill you one to perfection,” Gentry said.

“Next,” Venerable Knight Roman Calixtus called. 

Toby was so lost in staring at Gentry that he hadn’t realized it was his turn. He fumbled to drag his identification card out of his pocket, and Toby handed it over to Roman, who greeted him warmly and asked if he required a key to a room in the hotel.

Gentry leaned close again. “You can share my room if you want.”

Everything was happening quickly, but Toby was ready to dive into their relationship . Fate had given him a gift, and Gentry was supposed to be his perfect match. 

Toby grinned. “I’d like that.”

“Are you a bathroom hogger?” Gentry asked.

The Venerable Knight registering Toby looked away from his computer screen to study the pair when Toby announced he didn’t need a hotel key.

“I don’t think so. I pretty much limit my use to regular maintenance,” Toby assured Gentry.

“You two are going to share a room?” Roman asked.

“We just met, but Toby is my mate,” Gentry stated loudly. 

Toby loved the confidence in his voice and latched onto it as a sign that his fear was unnecessary.

Roman smiled. “Congratulations. That’s wonderful.”

“Thanks,” Toby and Gentry said together, which made them both laugh.

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

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Boi Bride (Treaty Brides #1) by Samantha Cayto


 

Author Samantha Cayto and Pride Publishing host today's release blitz for Boi Bride (Treaty Brides #1)! Find out more about the enemies to lovers romance and enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!

Boi Bride by Samantha Cayto

Book 1 in the Treaty Brides series

Word Count:  59,605
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 213

Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
ENEMIES TO LOVERS
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
ROYALS

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

Being a bride is a state of mind, not of body.

The Kingdom of Moorcondia and the Marshlands have been warring for years. Now a treaty has been negotiated, but it needs to be sealed by a marriage between the ruling families. But the bride has bolted, leaving her brother, Taryn, to fill the role. There is nothing in the law of either country that says a bride has to be female.

Forced to dress in his sister’s gown and marry Soren, Taryn faces his fate with anger, resolve and frightening anticipation. While the Moorcondians are flexible in their sexuality, the Marshers are more prudish, plus Taryn has learned the hard lesson that an attraction to men is unnatural and wrong. His desire for Soren frightens him.

As a prince, Soren knows his duty and executes it without hesitation. As a widower, he looks forward to a new marriage, and his unexpected bride is very fetching. If only he can convince Taryn to put aside his fears and accept the pleasures of the marriage bed.

Taryn struggles to fill the role of a wife in the royal family, even as everyone else tries to adjust to the notion of a male bride. As the days pass, Soren comes to appreciate his bride more, and Taryn tries embrace his new role with enthusiasm instead of resignation. But politics is a treacherous place to navigate, putting their blossoming love in jeopardy.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of dubious consent, homophobia and attempted suicide.

Excerpt

“I won’t do it!”

The slap was delivered with less force than typical. Taryn didn’t even try to avoid it. He’d learned long ago that any show of fear only fed his brother’s cruel streak. Nor did he back away as Hobart leaned into his face.

“You will do as you are told.” Flecks of spit flew from Hobart’s mouth, the smell of beer wafting on his breath. Fury showed in his expression, testament to how desperate he must be.

Taryn tried to maintain his resolve over this order being suddenly thrust upon him, even as he knew he had no control over his own fate. “I can’t marry that man.” It was hard to believe he had to even say those words.

“You can and you will. It’s the only way the treaty can go forward. If our sister hadn’t run away to the nunnery, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.” Hobart’s gaze shifted to a spot somewhere in the distance, and his lip curled in a sneer. “She’d already taken her vows by the time I’d caught up to her.” He refocused his attention on Taryn. “A child of the chieftain has been promised to the Moorcondian prince. With Alissa gone, it’s down to you, as you are well past being a child.”

Taryn balled his hands in frustration. “My age is not the issue. He was promised a bride, not another man.”

Hobart huffed. “You do yourself too much credit. Truth be told, you’re more of a girl than Alissa ever was. Prettier, too.” His brother didn’t mean those words to be a compliment, and after years of such taunting, Taryn let them roll off his back.

“Tell that to the prince. You can’t hide my sex from him. He’ll see me for what I am even before he takes that frock off me.” He flung his arm in the direction of the maid who stood awkwardly with what should have been his sister’s wedding gown.

“Those fucking Moorcondians are a decadent lot. Men lie with each other all the time, I hear. The fuckers probably bed their horses, for all I know. And the wiseman has looked at their laws and ours. There is nothing that says a bride has to be female. I imagine the stupid princeling will find plowing your ass just as sweet as Alissa’s dried-up cunt—more so, likely. And I’m sure it’s a dream come true for you,” he added with a look of disgust.

Taryn again ignored the baiting and struggled to contain the tears that threatened to leak out. He was angry and scared in equal measure. The whole idea of his marrying the age-old enemy of his people was intolerable. He couldn’t blame his sister for seeking sanctuary from her fate. He was merely the unlucky victim of her self-preservation. She couldn’t have known what it would mean for him and probably wouldn’t have cared if she had. Their father hadn’t raised them to be generous with each other.

Taryn also had to admit that his brother was probably right about the Moorcondian prince. It was a very different society than his own—decadent, as Hobart had aptly put it. Their prince had ridden in with a colorful retinue and much fanfare. They were nothing like the earthier and frankly poor people of the Marshlands. Taryn couldn’t imagine how he was supposed to fit into such a world. Being the child of a Marsher chieftain mostly meant he had cleaner clothes and more to eat. His presence among the Moorcondians would be like a reed finch flitting around peacocks. If he’d been reviled by his own people, the Moorcondians would undoubtedly treat him with even more contempt.

This is so unfair! Railing against his fate out loud was worse than useless. If he put up any more of a fight, he’d be going to his own wedding with a black eye and split lip. Hobart was being restrained at the moment, likely so that Taryn would be as appealing to his groom as possible. Testing his brother’s patience would only end one way, however. He knew he was powerless in this, as with all other things. He’d learned to survive his family’s brutality, and he could cope with anything these foreigners threw at him. Besides, he’d heard that the opulent Moorcondian palace contained a vast library. If he were lucky, his new husband would give him the freedom to explore it.

That’s more like it. Finding some silver lining in any situation was what kept him sane. He would survive this misery as he had so many others. There was also some deep part of him that dared to be intrigued by the idea of being bedded by the prince, lending credence to Hobart’s taunt, though Taryn had snuffed that spark as soon as he’d become aware of it. Those kinds of thoughts weren’t to be tolerated. He didn’t want sex of any kind. Before Alissa had beat him to it, he’d been considering taking his own vows and living his life at the monastery. Anything would have been more appealing than living under the harsh judgment of his father and brother, plus he would have had time for scholarly pursuits. Now his future would be held by another powerful man—and one he knew nothing about.

There was no hope for it. Squaring his shoulders, he stared his brother down. “Very well. I will don that gown and greet my groom to be. If he rejects me, it won’t be my fault.”

Hobart’s expression turned as nasty as it got. “You’d better hope he doesn’t. The ceremony has already been delayed because you were off wasting the day away. If this treaty fails, I’ll stake you to the execution hill myself and revel in your slow death.”

His brother strode out of the tiny room Taryn had managed to call his own. Then he turned to the poor maid, who obviously wished she were anywhere else. He recognized the woman as the one who had served his sister. No doubt she was already frightened that she would be punished for her mistress’ escape. Certainly the guard who’d let her flee must have known tremendous regret the moment before Hobart had severed the man’s head from his neck. Taryn wouldn’t be the cause of trouble for her.

“Will that even fit me?” The pale green dress was trimmed with lace, luxurious for his people. But Anissa was a voluptuous woman. He lacked the essential shape to wear such a thing.

The maid gave him a shy smile. “I took it in this afternoon.”

So, others in our tribe knew my fate before I did. No surprise there. His father and brother treated him like a piece of furniture—and a useless one at that. It must have enraged them to realize that they needed him to seal the treaty, and bringing him into the discussion would never have occurred to them. He pushed back the hurt and took what little control he could. “I’ll need a quick bath.” He’d spent the day riding, mostly to stay clear of the Moorcondians, but he couldn’t go to his groom smelling like horse.

“Of course, sir. Leave it all to me.”

With his heart still lodged in his throat, and his stomach churning, he was happy for someone else to take command of the situation. The story of my life. I should never have been born to a powerful family.

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About the Author

Samantha Cayto

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

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

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Release Blitz: Over the Emerald Valley (Immortal Jewels) by Lee Colgin


 Author Lee Colgin and Gay Book Promotions share new paranormal fantasy release, Over the Emerald Valley! Read more about the standalone today!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Over the Emerald Valley: MM Paranormal Fantasy Romance

Author and Publisher: Lee Colgin

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: April 28, 2022

Genre: MM Paranormal/Fantasy Romance

Tropes: Forced Proximity, Sex-worker, Only One Bed

Themes: Things are never black and white, they’re usually grey

Heat Rating: 4 flames    

Length: 61 000 words/ 250 pages

It is a standalone story within a series that you don’t need to read at all to understand this book.  

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Blurb

Life as a concubine to the devious Viceroy Abasi isn’t so bad. Temaj has food, shelter, and every inch of his skin is draped in emeralds. What’s freedom worth when weighed against the luxury of the palace?

Solon’s dutiful life earned him the rank of army general to the pharaoh. But when he’s sent on a diplomatic mission to an emerald mine rather than into battle, he senses the end of his career and a lonely retirement.

Temaj is gifted to Solon for his stay, but the last person Solon wants in his bed is a slave sent to spy on him—even if he is a gorgeous, silver-tongued vixen of a man.

Trouble brews when emeralds go missing. With only a clever concubine and the viceroy’s harem on his side, can Solon solve the mystery and escape with his life, or are he and Temaj destined to haunt the walls of the palace forever?

***

Over the Emerald Valley is a gay paranormal romance full of snarky banter, dangerous secrets, steamy stolen moments and only one bed. It’s a stand alone novel within the Immortal Jewels series and can be read first or last with no spoilers, no cliffhangers, and always a happily ever after!

Excerpt   

“Ah, fear not.” Abasi raised a bejeweled finger with a flourish and beckoned forth a new group. “I’m told you prefer men, and I’m nothing if not accommodating.”

Solon preferred willing partners, not slaves, but he wouldn’t risk insulting Abasi with his morals.

There was no easy way to get out of this. He’d have to select one of them.

As the newest line of elegant, supple bodies drew close, Solon caught the gaze of a tall man who moved with the feline grace of a street cat. His honey-colored hair hung in long, loose waves over his shoulders, and his pursed lips said he knew what a gem he was.

That light hair marked him as foreign among all the black silken tresses of the other concubines. Northern. From distant lands. How did he end up in an Egyptian harem so far south?

Solon stared. The man wore no paint, no kohl, and no gaudy decorations, just a simple green linen shift belted at the waist. His beauty needed no enhancement.

Rather than cast his gaze demurely at the floor, as the others had done, the blond met Solon’s stare…and winked.

A real smile at such a display of gumption replaced the fake one on Solon’s lips.

Abasi stood, and a servant bustled to move his chair out of the way. “Come, have a look. Shall I introduce them?”

Solon followed his host to the line of concubines. There were fewer men than women, but still quite the selection. Six men and nine women in total.

“That won’t be necessary.” Solon would prefer to retire alone for the night, but if he had to pick… “I’ve made my choice.”

Abasi knocked him on the back so hard Solon nearly stumbled. “I like a man who knows what he wants. Which will it be?”

The blond, without hesitation, stepped forward. Bold. He peered at Solon through half-lidded eyes, gaze intense, as if daring him to suggest anyone but himself.

“Him.” Solon gestured to the brazen slave, who only then deigned to lower his gaze.

“Ah, well chosen. That is Temaj, a beauty from the north and a wild cat beneath the sheets, or so I’m told. My tastes don’t run toward men.”

“Then why have them in your harem?” The question was out of Solon’s mouth before he could think better of asking. Luckily, the viceroy didn’t seem offended. Rather, the man laughed.

“A proper harem must contain both, dear Solon, for how else are you to please all your guests?”

Solon would never understand the lives of the rich or the royal. When he retired from the army, he wanted only a plot of land, a good mule, decent tools, and, if he was very lucky, perhaps someone to share it with, though he expected to end up alone.

“How do you want him?” asked Abasi.

Solon cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

Abasi gestured to Temaj, who stood silently as if he didn’t mind two men discussing him as if he weren’t there. “How do you want him dressed? Done up? What are your preferences?”

“Oh. Nothing,” said Solon.

Temaj startled and bestowed on him a glower that would send a dog’s tail sticking between its legs.

About the Author 

Lee Colgin has loved vampires since she read Dracula on a hot, sunny beach at 13 years old. She lives in North Carolina with lots of dogs and her husband. No, he's not a vampire, but she loves him anyway. Lee likes to workout so she can eat the maximum amount of cookies with her pizza. Ask her how much she can bench press.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Karma's Kiss by M.C. Roth


Author M.C. Roth and Pride Publishing share new release info for Karma's Kiss! Learn more about the paranormal romance and enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!


 

Karma's Kiss by M.C. Roth

General Release Date: 26th April 2022

Word Count: 63,879
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 230

Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
ANGELS AND DEMONS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
PARANORMAL
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE
WERESHIFTERS

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Book Description

Karma isn’t the worst curse to have after all.

Zack is running from his family, his past and a curse that has tainted his life since childhood. Fleeing his temporary home for the sake of his ex-boyfriend, Zack becomes stranded in a snow drift in the middle of nowhere, wearing nothing more than a spring jacket and an old pair of running shoes. Resigning himself to freezing to death, he is rescued by Eric, an irresistible man who treads the line between kindness and discourtesy.

Zack quickly realises that Eric’s home is a different kind of frozen hell. There is no electricity in the tiny one-room cabin, no running water and definitely no Wi-Fi.

But Eric is more than just a man. He is the only one who seems to be immune to Zack’s curse, and he has secrets of his own. Eric may be more dangerous than anything Zack has ever seen before.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and the death of a secondary character.

Excerpt

“No. No. No,” said Zack as he pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The ancient car responded sluggishly, a full second passing before the engine vibrated with a purr that made his foot go numb. The bald tyres spun, trapped in a sheet of ice and snow that coated the road and the lone vehicle.

The storm sagged against the windshield as the wipers tried lethargically to keep up, leaving large, frosted streaks with every swipe. With each pass, the ice crystals grew denser, coating the wipers with budding globs of ice.

Another burst of wind battered the side of the car, fluttering against the door and buffeting the tiny cracks in the vehicle. A trickle of cold air brushed against his chilled knuckles, and a shiver cascaded though his body.

The vehicle lurched closer to the ditch that had disappeared into the blizzard’s cloud. The tyres caught, edging sideways in a frozen rut. He jerked at the steering wheel, but there was no response as he was buried deeper in the drifts.

Zack’s heart pounded as he lost control of the wheel and the engine sputtered. But he barely noticed as the car lurched into a stall or as the air got even colder through the flimsy heating vents. The storm was the furthest thing from his mind.

It had happened again. And, of course, it had chosen the moment when the biggest snowstorm of the decade was blowing its way across the lakes. The radar had probably gone from red to purple then black while he’d driven with no destination in mind.

The roads had been relatively clear a few hours before, when he had fled to his car, putting it straight into second gear before he even had his seat belt on. He had hit the highway, flipping a virtual coin to choose the exit he’d take before the heavy flakes had started drifting down from the grey sky.

He shuddered. His darkness—his curse—the thing had haunted him for as long as he could remember… It always seemed to choose the worst moments to rear its ugly, jealous head. This had to be one of the top five of all time, though.

He had tried to keep moving. He’d tried to leave before he could put anyone else at risk.

But he’d been sucked in by another pair of sweet blue eyes and a soft voice that had promised him a good night. That night had turned into a stream of great weeks and gentle touches that had him coming more consistently than he ever had.

The sex had been fantastic, if not a little bit soft, more often ending in his mouth or his hand—and not somewhere better, tighter and hotter. His nights hadn’t been cold in an empty hotel bed or on a couch that he had claimed during a stranger’s party. He had started to look forwards to waking up in the morning and seeing someone other than himself in his bed.

Then it had all gone wrong. One word and a spurned rejection, and his past had caught up with him with the force of a starving tiger. He’d staggered as he’d felt the blood drain from his face.

He had fled before anything could happen to the man who he had almost started to like. If he’d had the opportunity, he could have developed full-blown feelings, which were more dangerous than his curse.

He’d grabbed everything in sight that belonged to him, leaving more behind than he’d taken. His socks and underwear were lost beneath the bed and in the basket of laundry, but he hadn’t had the time to retrieve them. They weren’t the worst things that he’d ever left behind.

He’d had run to his ancient Honda, breathing hard by the time he had tugged the door open. As he’d sped away, he’d left another chunk of his past behind him, the sweet memories tainted by his bitter curse. The traffic had steadily thinned, until he was the only car in the midst of a forest that seconded as a snowy hell.

His trusty Honda was only five years younger than him and had more problems than he did, which was saying a lot. Its most recent issue was that it apparently couldn’t drive through more than two centimetres of fresh snow.

He fumbled with the key, glancing out into the bleak stretch of swirling snow as he tried to start the engine yet again. Stomping on the gas, he waited for the RPMs to climb into the red zone before popping the clutch and putting the car directly into second gear. First gear didn’t exactly work, and on ice, it was its own death trap.

There was a shuddering jerk that had relief flooding his gut, until the car rocked once and stalled back into silence. The dials dropped and the fuzzy radio station faded until the barest hint of the country song vanished under the sound of the wind.

“Shit,” he said as he slammed his hand against the steering wheel. It shuddered, barely holding on to its rigging after his repeated abuse. He could imagine the wheel finally tumbling off as he merged lanes on a highway doing one-hundred-and-thirty-five kilometres per hour. I’m lucky like that.

His palm ached from the hit and the cold that was steadily seeping into the car, but it didn’t stop him from slamming the wheel a second time. His thumb caught the edge of the horn, but the blaring sound was swept away on the wind.

The temperature inside the car noticeably dropped another few degrees, and his breath turned into a misty fog that coated everything it touched. The car’s heater was lukewarm at best, and without a working defrost, ice had started to crust on even the inside of the windshield.

He turned the key again as he popped the car back into neutral and pushed the clutch to the floor. He shivered as another gust of wind cut into the Honda. His thin jacket was best suited for balmy fall days, but it was the only one that had been in sight as he’d scrambled to leave. His toes were numb in his sneakers, and his hands? Well, he was afraid to look at them, because he wouldn’t be surprised if a few fingers were already missing. His gloves had been one of the many things that he had left behind, and his hands had been aching since the snow had started.

The car key turned under his hand, jingling with the other attached keys and mementos that he had picked up on his travels. There was a tiny metal sandal that he’d picked up in a beach town and an iron sun from a gift shop that he’d found in the middle of nowhere. The rest were worn, their edges smooth from their constant motion. He kept them close, so he wouldn’t have to look back and remember.

The key turned, with the promise of escape and a hint of heat. Silence. Not even a putter from the flooded engine. His gut churned as a shiver racked his body. It was so freaking cold, and according to the last clear announcement on the radio, the storm was just getting started.

He grappled with the horn, pushing the button as hard as he could. There had to be someone close by who would come to his rescue if they heard him honking. People in the city might not have looked twice, but he was pretty far into the wilderness, on the only road that probably ever saw a plough in winter. People were different out here—lonelier.

The button clicked under his palm as the battery finally gave out. The same battery had lasted him twenty years, so, of course, it would choose to fail him when he was about to lose his toes.

Zack took a shuddering breath as his vision blurred and his heart sank. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep the warmth from escaping. Perhaps everything was finally catching up with him. Freezing to death wouldn’t be the worst way to go. He’d seen worse before—so much worse. His stomach clenched as memories fluttered to the surface of his mind. He tried to push them away before he could retch.

“Look at the snow. Just look at the snow,” he said, holding himself tighter as he tried to focus on an individual flake in the whirling mass—anything to leave the flashes of his past behind.

Beyond the window he could see bits of the forest through the gaps in the gathering ice on the windshield. The road was nearly invisible, with no tyre tracks except his own behind him. Even those were almost gone now.

A green bough fluttered in the wind, dumping its heavy load onto the ground below it. A bird fluttered from the branch, battling against the wind as it took off. For a moment, it looked like it would lose the fight and be tossed into the nearest tree trunk. It pumped its wings faster, finally triumphing over the storm.

There were no hydro lines along the road or lamp posts that would guide a traveller along at night. It was a tourist’s nightmare. He cursed himself, wondering if he should’ve taken the other fork in the road that had probably led along a path that was closer to the city.

A smudge of colour caught his eye as it flashed along the very edge of the trees. The trunks grew close together, dark and foreboding within the mass, and their limbs danced and swayed in the wind, dumping the snow back to the earth with each pass. There was so much movement that he wondered if he had imagined the blur.

He squinted and leaned closer to the window, trying to make sense of it through the fluttering snow. It could have been a deer. He’d already seen a few along the way, looking ready to jump out at his car and double his insurance. Or it could have been a bear, given how far he’d come, although he’d only ever seen them on television. The dark beacon had looked too small to be the creature he’d seen on Planet Earth.

He spotted it again as the wind stilled and the blizzard cleared for a moment. It moved through the snow with a fluid grace that could only belong to an animal who could survive a harsh winter. Nothing battered or beaten lived in this cold, and no predator could thrive without hunting in the perpetual storm that was February.

It grew closer with every loping step, until it seemed larger than what he imagined a bear would be. It was fast, too, cutting through the drifts as if it weighed nothing. Zack knew how hard it was to walk through snow that deep, which was why he usually avoided it at all costs. That, and he really didn’t want to get his too-tight jeans wet.

Zack scrubbed the inside of the window with his nails, bits of ice stinging his numb fingertips. His breath frosted it over again, until everything blurred.

It could have been a dog with how dark the colouring was, but he’d never seen a dog that big. A bear would definitely make more sense, but according to the television, bears hibernated in the winter.

The ice on the window thickened into an opaque crystal as he pressed his forehead against it, desperate to see what was coming. It was running at a pace that was hardly possible over the covered ground, gliding over the snow without seeming to disturb it at all.

A bubble of fear simmered in his gut as he pictured a bear breaking through his window with its massive, clawed paws. He was small enough that he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight, but there was still enough meat on him to make a decent meal, he supposed.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to try to ground himself. The wind around him paused, the car going suddenly still and silent. He snapped his eyes back open, looking through the tiny gaps from his fingertips. There was nothing but the dark tree trunks capped with pure white.

The seat creaked as he freed himself from the seatbelt and lifted himself to his knees, pressing against a strip of clear glass. He blinked, rubbing his eyes to remove the imagined fog, but nothing appeared. The snow was undisturbed, except for the partially covered ruts from his own tyres. There were no footprints, and no animal was out in the wind.

I’m officially losing my mind.

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About the Author

M.C. Roth

M.C. Roth lives in Canada and loves every season, even the dreaded Canadian winter. She graduated with honours from the Associate Diploma Program in Veterinary Technology at the University of Guelph before choosing a different career path.

Between caring for her young son, spending time with her husband, and feeding treats to her menagerie of animals, she still spends every spare second devoted to her passion for writing.

She loves growing peppers that are hot enough to make grown men cry, but she doesn’t like spicy food herself. Her favourite thing, other than writing of course, is to find a quiet place in the wilderness and listen to the birds while dreaming about the gorgeous men in her head.

Find out more about M.C. Roth at her website.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. 

a Rafflecopter giveaway