Release Blitz + Giveaway: Bedside Manners (Living Situations #2) by Ella Fenn

Author Ella Fenn and Gay Book Promotions promote new forced proximity romance release, Bedside Manners (Living Situations #2)! Read more and enter in the giveaway for a chance to win one of 5 signed copies of Bedside Manners (for US residents only) or ebooks for non-US residents!


Book Title: Bedside Manners (Living Situations Book 2)

Author and Publisher: Ella Fenn

Cover Artist: Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: May 10, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M romance

Tropes: Age gap, hurt/comfort, BDSM, hot mountain man, forced proximity

Themes: Healing trauma, second chances, coming of age

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 88 000 words 

It is the second book in the series, so characters from book 1 do show up in it, but the reader doesn’t need to know their story to read this one. 

The book does not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

A freak windstorm. A life-changing accident. An unlikely helping hand. 


A freak windstorm. A life-changing accident. An unlikely helping hand. 

After years spent suffering under the weight of his father’s expectations, Max Castillo-Grant is celebrating his shiny new law degree by drinking, partying, and bed-hopping around Seattle. Max isn’t stupid—he knows the good times never last—but if the world’s going to bring him low, he might as well enjoy the high. 

Six years ago, a broken heart and a deep loss turned Ben Greer bitter and reclusive. Formerly the life of the party, he quit his job, rejected his friends, and hid from the world. Now, he spends his days alone, working on occasional custom carpentry commissions, with only his dog, Judith, for company.

Two severe weather events conspire to leave Ben in need of a full-time caretaker for his injuries, and Max in need of a respectable job. Despite a rocky start, Ben is begrudgingly won over by Max’s good humor, and the two form a lasting connection. But emotional wounds leave deep scars, and both Ben and Max are damaged. Can they find a way to heal hurts that go far beyond the physical before it’s too late?  

The second book in the Living Situations series, Bedside Manners is a gay romance featuring an age gap, BDSM, and 4-6 terrible puns about woodworking. If you like steamy situations, hurt/comfort, and grumpy mountain men, then you’ll love Ella Fenn’s latest novel.

Pick up Bedside Manners and let Ben and Max sweep you off your feet today! 


Ben woke to the disconcerting sensation of a tongue between his toes. He sat up, yanking his foot away, and faced down the wet-mouthed perpetrator.

Judith sat back on her haunches and grinned, her tongue lolling from her lips as she stared at him with brown eyes that radiated canine intelligence. She was smart enough to know how to get Ben out of bed, at any rate. 

“Menace,” Ben said, scowling as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Delinquent. I oughta take you back to the pound.”

Judith gave an impatient yap, her shaggy tail thumping against the hardwood. Ben glanced at the clock and yawned. “All right, all right. I’m coming.” 

He rose, ignoring the way his knees popped and his neck twinged—forty-five was forty-five—then dressed in his standard flannel and jeans then navigated the maze of boxes that lay between him and the stairs. eBay purchases, mostly, things he’d intended to refurbish and sell but never quite got around to dealing with. 

Judith led the way downstairs to Ben’s well-stocked kitchen, where he poured a bowl of kibble for her and got coffee brewing for himself before flipping on the radio.

“We’ve got a windstorm advisory for Seattle. It’s gonna be a nasty one out there, folks, so if you’re planning on hiking, maybe reconsider,” the announcer said as she detailed the day’s weather. A quick glance out the kitchen windows confirmed her words. The tall pines surrounding Ben’s isolated property were bending under the wind’s assault. 

“Guess we’re staying in the shop today,” he said, more to himself than to Judith, who was still preoccupied with her food.

Not that staying in was a problem—Ben had been doing it every day for the better part of five years. There was plenty of gas in the generator and food in the fridge, so even if the wind blew the power down (which it had been known to do on occasion), he and Jude could stay tucked up and safe for a good long while. Not forever, but… well, forever would be the dream, with unlimited supplies appearing as if by magic. 

“Come on, little girl,” he said, patting her head. “You wanna get to work?”

That got her tail wagging, and Ben grinned. He felt the same way about the workshop, that welcoming cocoon of sawdust and wood awaiting them across the drive. Originally, it had been a two-car garage with a mother-in-law suite overhead, but he’d converted the space into his workshop when he bought the place, putting up a carport between the buildings to link them. The shop was his sanctum sanctorum, full of tools he’d inherited from his father and some shiny new toys he’d purchased to make it perfect. 

Judith bounded ahead, eager to get to her favorite place—favorite bed, favorite toys, favorite box of treats—and Ben followed, cupping one hand over the top of his mug, the scalding splashes barely registering against the worn calluses he’d built up over the years. No more than half the coffee remained by the time he made it to the workshop and opened the side door. Judith, true to form, was already curled up in her bed, the doggy door Ben had installed years before having allowed her ease of access. 

“Shit,” he said, leaning against the heavy wooden door with a laugh. “That’s some gale, huh, Dorothy?”

Judith didn’t get the joke. Humor was wasted on canines. Harrumphing, Ben went to his desk, set his coffee between two precarious-looking piles of papers, and picked up the leatherbound sketchbook he’d need to continue work on his latest commission of six dining chairs. 

Notebook tucked into his back pocket, he went to his wood rack, selected a sheet of oak, and eased it out. He whistled along with the wind as he brought the wood to the table saw that dominated the corner nearest the rack. An ancient relic, the saw had been his father’s, carefully packed and shipped from Montana after the old man had died a few years prior. 

Ben flipped the switch that powered the table then got to it, carefully cutting the slab of oak down to size. It was rote work, peaceful in its way, and he lost himself in the rhythm, heedless of the screaming wind outside… until there came a bang on the roof so loud it made him jump. That was a mistake, since he’d been damn close to the blade. The torque of the motor kept chewing through the wood, and when it got to Ben’s forearm, the saw chewed through that too. 

About the Author 

Ella Fenn is a romance author best known for telling tawdry tales tinged with a little something sweet.

Author of the Living Situations series, Ella wakes at the crack of dawn each day and spends a few hours tapping at the keyboard before beginning her 9-5 job in marketing and communications. 

Using her bachelor’s in journalism and a master’s in organizational behavior, Ella enjoys diving deep into the unique traits and tricks that make her characters tick. She believes everyone has a story to tell, and loves to engage with readers, whether it’s answering questions or discussing the nitty-gritty of her process. 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  | Facebook  |  Facebook group  |  Twitter

Instagram  |   Newsletter Sign-up  |  TikTok


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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Kelpie's Claiming (Fairview Chronicles #10) by Alexa Piper


Author Alexa Piper and IndiGo Marketing share new paranomal thriller, Kelpie's Claiming (Fairview Chronicles #10)! Read more from the latest fantasy romantic suspense and enter in the Changeling Press credit giveaway!

Title: Kelpie's Claiming

Series: Fairview Chronicles 10

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: May 13, 2022

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 147 pages

Genre: Romance, Mystery, Thriller/Suspense, Paranormal Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Alternate Universe, Shapeshifters

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Rob’s current goal in life? Do not eat people. That’s easier said than done when you’re a kelpie in the service industry. While Rob pursues his goals from behind the bar, a stranger walks in, and Rob catches the man’s scent. Yet, patrons are not for eating, and it should have ended there… except when Rob smells that delicious scent again, the beautiful stranger needs help.

Bertrand wants to fit in, but because he’s part Fae, part Elf, and grew up human, he’s not really at home in either human or supernatural society. Still, he likes being a reporter and following a story all the way to its conclusion. The story he’s pursuing when he walks into Rob’s bar one night is one of supernaturals going missing, and Bertrand seems to be the only one who cares.

Meeting Bertrand might just shift Rob’s life goals. Coming face-to-face with a kelpie stallion might be enough to help Bertrand see where he fits in perfectly. Except Bertrand doesn’t really know what to make of Rob, and also, Bertrand's missing persons story is bigger than even he envisioned. It’s turning into a case of abduction and trafficking he needs to unravel before he can even think about Rob’s advances. The story will lead Bertrand to some dark places before the year is out.


All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper


In his more philanthropic youth, Rob had been excited about opening a bar-slash-diner and making a name for his establishment. He had succeeded with the Ragdoll, which was known for amazing sandwiches and exquisite liquor concoctions in supernatural circles and human circles alike. Going fully vegetarian had been the logical choice for Rob when he’d moved to the city of Fairview.

Now, he had over twenty years in the service industry under his belt, and the occasional slice of liver sounded so appealing when Rob had to cling on to his smile for all he was worth in front of a customer. It was why he’d hired a half-succubus and sexy Ilya whatever-he-was to handle the personal interactions.

(Rob was convinced Ilya could have, if he’d ever shown the inclination, charmed the pants off a barstool if barstools wore pants.) But now, with Ilya in love with a disgustingly rich witch and consequently out of town for whatever spell the Fey had planned to put on Rob’s most beloved employee, Rob had to pick up the slack behind the bar. And Ilya’s brother was not a suitable replacement, even if he was responding well to getting trained for the job.

“There is not enough rum in this,” the customer told Rob again, and Rob was pulled from his musings and back to wishing for a slice of liver.

“I’m ever so sorry,” Rob said without conviction. He looked up from the lime he was about to dismember on his cutting board behind the bar and glanced over the customer’s shoulder at Titi. The busboy was taking down the Fat Man Day decorations and prepping the Ragdoll for Sparklers and Public Drunkenness Day. There would be even more early drinkers here on Sparklers and Public Drunkenness Day, and Rob would have to be behind the bar, because sweet Ilya was getting bewitched.

“So are you gonna make me a new one?” the customer asked. Apparently, the red-faced man in his thirties with a beer belly threatening already was still there. At three in the afternoon. To consume rum cocktails. Not that Rob was the judgy type.

Rob had no intention of making another Mai Tai. He took a step to his right, located the dark rum, and poured the customer another finger of the liquor into his glass. “There you go,” Rob said, giving the man his best take it or leave it look.

The man looked from Rob to the cocktail, back again, and took it. He was complaining under his breath as he moved back to the table he’d occupied with two equally annoying male companions. The beer bellies were imminent in all of them, in Rob’s opinion. Sadly, that meant their livers would be fatty rather than yummy.

“Sorry,” Ilya’s brother said. Rob looked over to the man, who wore a black button-down shirt and jeans, but not as well as Ilya. He didn’t look half as sexy as Ilya. Rob still could not understand how that worked, how they were related. Ilya was a mysterious pale-skinned and raven-haired delight (who could easily handle over-drunk patrons with his charm). Kyle was plain dishwater blond. It made no sense, apart from being unfair to Rob, who would have loved nothing better than two Ilyas behind his bar.

“It’s fine,” Rob said. “The drink wasn’t the issue.”

Kyle narrowed his eyes and looked at the floor. “Okay.”

Rob frowned. Kyle was an odd one, but he followed direction perfectly. The real downside was simply that he wasn’t the sexy barman his brother was.

“Really, it’s okay. Some people just need to be assholes, and there is nothing you can do about that.” He patted Kyle on the shoulder. Kyle jerked a little at the contact before he relaxed.

Rob felt that was enough life advice, so he went back to murdering the lime. About five seconds later, the door opened, and on a breeze of cold air, the local mage and one of her lovers drifted into the bar. This lover (the nice one) was slightly too chatty for Rob’s taste, but judging by the time, the two of them were just here for a late lunch or coffee and something sweet. (This time, Rob hoped they wouldn’t have their… dessert in the ladies’ room. Rob wasn’t a prude by any means, he just disliked cleaning a bathroom after people spent time on their knees in there for whatever reason, and it was extra work, even if Kyle happily volunteered each time.)

Predictably, after the mage -- in conversation with the nice lover -- waved hello at Rob and Kyle, who seemed like he wanted to hide under the bar at seeing her, they made for a table rather than the bar. Rob knew Ilya, and possibly the Fey witch, had gotten the mage to become a regular, and it made Rob miss his night bartender all the more.

Kyle sidled up close to Rob. “Uhm, do you want me to serve them?” he asked quietly.

Rob put his knife down. This lime was getting lucky, for now. “I can do it. I don’t think she bites, and that lover definitely doesn’t.”


Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | BookBub


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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Made of Folded Paper by Kai Wolden

Author Kai Wolden and Pride Publishing celebrate the release of Made of Folded Paper! Read more about the contemporary romance and enter in the First Romance giveaway!

Made of Folded Paper by Kai Wolden

Word Count: 35,645
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 131



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Book Description

College friendships are supposed to last a lifetime… But this is a little more complicated…

Will, a daydreamer and romantic from small-town Iowa, starts his first year at Weston Academy of the Arts, where his peers nickname him “Iowa.” Iowa becomes acquainted with a charismatic thespian named LA, who introduces him to his two best friends—Cynic, a suave and sardonic musician, and Charlie, a reserved and enigmatic writer.

Over time, Iowa becomes increasingly fascinated with his three new friends in different ways, forming a brotherly bond with LA and a more complex connection with Cynic. Only Charlie remains distant, capturing Iowa’s intrigue most of all.

When Iowa catches a glimpse of an alarming scar on Charlie’s chest, he becomes obsessively concerned about him. He begins to view Charlie as a fragile, tragic figure—but when he finally breaks through Charlie’s barriers, he discovers that this couldn’t be further from the truth.

As Iowa is overcome by intensifying feelings for Charlie, the group dynamic grows tense. It turns out Charlie and Cynic have a history, and seeing Charlie and Iowa together just might be enough to drive Cynic off the rails…

As graduation approaches, the four friends’ relationships are tested by jealousy, heartbreak and tragedy. Will love be enough to hold them together in the end?

Reader advisory: This book includes the death of a character in a drunk-driving incident. There are mentions of substance abuse, self-harm and depression, as well as mentions of suicide, homophobia, and transphobia.


I’m not sure when I first started fictionalizing my life, casting everyone around me in glamorous roles, romanticizing their flaws and my own. Maybe it was in middle school, when life was hell and it made things so much easier to imagine that the mean kids had secret, tortured home lives—neglectful parents, dead siblings, empty cupboards, holes in the roof that let in the rain. Maybe it was in high school, when I skipped class and hid in the back of the library with a stack of books, listening to the other truants who slipped between the shelves for more sensational reasons, contriving storylines for their hurried love affairs, illicit exchanges and muffled heartbroken sobs. Maybe it was after high school, those nights working at the general store, where drunks shuffled in to buy cigarettes and pornography, where my boss told me not to accept checks from Black people, where one year off to save money for college turned into another and another while at home my father slowly died from lung cancer. Regardless, at some point along the way, I developed a fascination that bordered on fetishism for tragedy.

I had always planned to go to college. There was never a time in those five years that I resigned myself, even for a moment, to a lifetime of working at the general store or the mill where my father had grudgingly labored for most of his life. I made excuses for putting it off year after year—money, my father’s health, my mother’s well-being after he died. She didn’t need me, but I pretended she did, pretended she needed someone to clean the leaves out of the gutters and fix the leaky pipes at the very least. I put into that drafty old clapboard house all the love I was never able to give to my father and all the love I wished I could give to my mother that she wouldn’t accept. When she told me she was selling the house and buying a condo in Des Moines, it was like she was telling me she was giving me up for adoption. I was twenty-three, but I curled up in the corner of my closet and cried like I was six. Then I crawled out, grabbed the laptop that I’d scrimped and saved for and lay on the threadbare carpet all night, researching colleges.

I made the economical choice—I would take general classes at a community college, a respected one as far as community colleges went, that was only an hour’s drive from Des Moines. I still wasn’t ready to completely sever those arterial ties with my mother that she’d clipped as easily as an umbilical cord. After two years, I would transfer to a four-year university to complete my bachelor’s degree, though I wasn’t sure yet where I would go or what I would study. I’d only ever loved one thing—books—but there was no money in an English degree, and I needed to make money if I ever wanted to escape Iowa for good. For those two years, in which I worked odd jobs and rented an elderly couple’s basement for almost nothing, provided I helped out around the house, I tried to muster an interest in something else—accounting, real estate, law, anything lucrative and sensible.

But in the end, when I confessed to my guidance counselor that I’d failed, she said impatiently, “Hey, at least you love something. You know how many people live their whole lives and never find anything they love? Do what you love.” So I started applying to English programs.

I had it in mind that I wanted to go to the East Coast—Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire or New York. I wanted to get out of the Midwest anyway, and there was something so gloomy and romantic about the East Coast in my mind (I’d never actually been there). But when I added up tuition and living expenses, I just couldn’t make it work, no matter how many financial aid packets and possible scholarships I factored in. I wasn’t a particularly impressive student on paper, though I had done well on my ACTs and written a masterful personal statement on the topic of my father’s agonizing demise. I ended up applying to eight universities across the United States, chosen for the prestige of their English programs, affordability and admittedly the aesthetic of their websites. I got three letters of acceptance, and when I laid them out on the flimsy card table in my rented basement room, it was the one with the thickest paper, the blackest ink and the most elegant sigil at the top—which contained an open book, a pen, a paintbrush and a violin—that drew my eye because I’d never seen anything so beautiful with my name on it. That was how I ended up in Michigan.

I was a bit embarrassed to be starting college at twenty-five—and I did think of it as starting because, compared to Weston Academy of the Arts, my quaint little community college was less than nothing. During the long drive east, then north in my beat-up Toyota with everything I owned rattling around the back seat, I did something I hadn’t done in a while—made up a backstory for myself. My father’s death I would keep, but it would be a boating accident rather than cancer—much more dramatic and devastating. My mother’s estrangement I would also keep, but I would lose her to grief and a pill addiction instead of apathy and a condo in Des Moines. Iowa I would abandon entirely in favor of something a bit superior—Minnesota or Illinois, perhaps—nowhere that would require an accent or change to my mannerisms. I wouldn’t lie about my age, but I would explain it away—a gap year that got out of hand, a spree of reckless behavior after my father’s death, a soul-searching quest across South America, a whirlwind affair with a Columbian woman (I’d taken Spanish in community college). By the time I arrived, I knew my story so well it was almost as if I’d actually lived it. But I never told it to anyone.

It turned out I’d misjudged the student population of Weston. I’d thought they would be wistful romantics like me, and they were. But the people who attended Weston were people who could have gone anywhere, but chose to slum it in Michigan because they romanticized the Midwest, small-town America and working-class, salt-of-the-earth folk like me. There was no better role I could have played than William Paine from Iowa. People called me “Iowa,” and soon enough, I dropped my name and embraced the character. I began to exaggerate certain parts of myself, the parts I could tell my peers most appreciated—my ignorance and inexperience (I didn’t know what Uber was, I’d never tried sushi, I’d never been to Europe), my wealth of practical knowledge (how to change a tire, how to sew on a button, how to fix a wobbly table), my poverty (my old flannel shirts and scuffed work boots, my battered Toyota with its cracked windshield, my job at the campus bookstore where I hauled boxes of textbooks and mopped muddy footprints from the floor).

I played the boy next door, blond and broad-shouldered, wholesome and hard-working, bursting with Midwestern hospitality. I exuded images of green and gold cornfields, boundless blue skies, blood-red sunsets, black storm clouds and ruinous tornados. I manifested the American Gothic—William Faulkner, Flannery O’Connor, Sherwood Anderson, Stephen Crane. I became a warped and grotesque caricature of myself, composed entirely of the qualities I had been most ashamed of and most wanted to leave behind when I started my new life. But my peers reveled in it, and I enjoyed the unfamiliar novelty of being popular, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

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About the Author

Kai Wolden

Kai Wolden writes fantasy, sci fi, and contemporary fiction starring queer, trans, and gender-nonconforming characters. Whether it takes place in outer space, a fantasy world, or a modern-day college campus, Kai loves honest, heart-wrenching stories about queer love in all its forms: friendship, romance, found family, and those ambiguous relationships that are somewhere in-between. Growing up queer and trans in small-town Wisconsin, Kai always wished he could find fictional characters who were more like him. Now he's populating the world with them, one book at a time!

Check out Kai's website here.


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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Saving the Wedding (Southern Charm #7) by Nicole Dennis

 Author Nicole Dennis and Pride Publishing share new release, Saving the Wedding (Southern Charm #7) ! Learn more about the latest release and enter in the First Romance giveaway!

Saving the Wedding by Nicole Dennis

Book 7 in the Southern Charm series

Word Count: 102,663
Pages: 430



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Book Description

Out of the swirling mix of secrets and a hurricane, can love survive? 

Two years later, part of the Charm family, Gavin Hartfield creates magical memories and events. One of those weddings will be for the Charm’s owners, Samuel Ashford and Dakota Mitchell, if they ever make up their minds. The other one for his ex-boyfriend and his new partner. In the middle of all this, he keeps tangling with a tattooed brusque EMT.

Xavier “Gray” Grayson feels a bit on the outside looking in when it comes to the collection of Charm men. He envies all of them finding love. Pushing his non-existent sex life filled with one-nights at clubs aside, he runs through life as an EMT and college student pushing to better himself. Running along the beach and trails become his relief and sanctuary. Until he keeps tripping over the new event coordinator.

An incoming hurricane takes aim at Shore Breeze. The town braces for the impact. Plans falter and change. Will life, love, and a wedding follow these changes?


Stepping outside on a Saturday morning, Gavin Hartfield, the creator of Charmed Occasions, the wedding and event-planning company within the Southern Charm Bed & Breakfast, touched the Bluetooth wireless earpiece that wrapped around his ear to reset it. Then he adjusted the microphone.

A trio of calls with immediate hang-ups buzzed his phone.

He pulled it out and checked the screen. The area code was from Atlanta, his previous hometown.

There was one person who kept harassing him, no matter how many times he changed his number.

A flicker of a panic attack increased his heartbeat.

Again. All of this. All over again.

He wanted the bastard to leave him alone.

“No. No. Concentrate on the wedding. They deserve your full attention—not an asshole who can’t let go.”

“Help! Gavin! You there?”

Wincing at his assistant’s voice, Gavin wanted to rip the entire headset away. “Yes. I’m here. Use the volume control. Please.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Victor MacArtney said. “Better?”

“Yes. What did you call for, Victor?”

“The family member acting as the cameraman for the virtual part is here. His name is Ryan. He wondered if he could follow you for all the pre-wedding stuff to show the family and guests waiting in their online group.”

“I’ll meet him inside. Have him wait by the entrance.”

“Gotta keep some of our secrets and tricks. Right?”


“Will do, boss.”

Shrugging off the earlier panicky sensation, he checked his tablet to update the list and timings for the wedding of Michael and Charles. Since the pandemic had changed everything, they’d pushed back their wedding multiple times until it was considered safer, when everyone would have been vaccinated. Once they’d chosen this Saturday, they were determined to exchange their vows and rings. They’d selected Occasions’ smaller package with a gazebo wedding and a brunch reception. The rest of the extended family, friends and co-workers had been invited to a virtual party in a Discord group that would be livestreamed by Ryan. The grooms kept the ceremony and reception areas subdued, simple, with a few splashes of flowers and a single pale-blue accent color against the natural background. It suited the older couple, who were both in their early forties. Now he needed to make their dream wedding come true on this July morning.

“Gavin, we have a problem!” Victor said while racing over.

Gavin wondered what disaster Victor had created this time. “Where is Ryan?”

“Left him inside like you said.”

“What is that?” Gavin focused on what Victor held in his hand.

Victor held up the battered birdcage. “One of the birdcages fell while the lighting team tried to hang it in the gazebo. A few pieces of metal snapped. Luckily, Jude hadn’t added the flowers or that would be another disaster. Ryan didn’t film anything. Would make it even—”

“Don’t even go there.”

“Yeah. True. What should we do?”

“First, calm down. There is always a solution. You must learn that part of the job.”

“Okay.” Victor spun the damaged item between his hands.

Gavin inspected the cage and realized they couldn’t repair it. They would have to discard the item. Okay, minor disaster, but there’s always a solution. Focus on that. “There’s no fixing this cage.”

“What’s the solution?”

Gavin tapped open the inventory program and scrolled to figure out his options. “Okay. Aisle 3, Bin C. There’s a matching cage that’s a little smaller, but it’ll work. Toss that one, remove it from the inventory list and get the replacement.”

“Will do.”

“Please tell them to be extra careful. Those are our only white cages. We’ll have to be on the lookout next time we go shopping. And don’t go through the main entrance. Avoid the camera.”

“Promise. Keep out of sight until it is all fixed and perfect. Understood.” Victor raced off.

“What next?” Gavin waved to the violinists. While he talked to Victor, the pair of music students had arrived and begun practicing. They’d worked an Occasions wedding before and knew the drill. Then he returned inside to weave his way to the kitchen.

“Morning, Malcolm, how are we progressing?”

The sous chef, Malcolm Bissete, chopped and diced with a massive chef’s knife. If Gavin used one of those, he would be afraid of losing a finger. “I’m not going to be filmed. Right?”

“The camera guy is waiting by the front entrance. I’ll keep him contained. This was agreed upon between Occasions and the grooms.”

“Okay. Too busy to deal with that nonsense. Stupid pandemic.”

“I know. I know. At least we get to go back to some normalcy.”

“True. Anyway…progress check. Right.” Mal didn’t look up throughout the entire conversation but kept his attention on his work. “Cocktail hour is done and ready.” He scooped the ingredients to a bowl. “The cocktails will be made fresh to order. Zak is on his way and will mix everything. Unlike me, he knows what he’s doing.”

Mal went to the warming oven, plucked out a couple of pieces, plated them and passed it to Gavin. “These are the egg-white tartlets with bacon, Gruyère and sun-dried tomatoes. The other is the mini-French toast. I added dark maple syrup, so it bakes into the bread. Nothing should bother your lactose issue. Both grooms requested alternative milks.”

“I missed one of my favorite parts of every event—the tasting element.”

“Still not going to share with Victor?”

“Nope. Not guilty, either.” Gavin savored the hors d’oeuvres Malcolm had created to satisfy an early morning hunger before the actual brunch—something to offset the morning dip into alcohol. The cocktail hour would be celebrated with an option of mint juleps and Bellinis, along with coffee and tea. While the grooms and wedding party finished the pictures, the guests could enjoy some delicacies. “Wow. These are delicious!”

Malcolm slid over a cup of fresh coffee, doctored to Gavin’s taste. “Appreciate it.”

“What else is ready?”

“Katie’s delivery guy dropped off the cake. It’s waiting in the walk-in fridge. Simple but elegant, like one of the grooms, Charles, wanted. Katie loved how it came out and will add it to her social media pages.” Mal pointed to another workspace. “I’m finishing the salad wraps and grilled vegetable tartlets. The frittatas are baking. The scones are done.”

“Perfect. You rock.” Gavin polished off the rest of the French toast, loving the flavor combination of cinnamon, nutmeg and maple syrup.

“It’s a small event, so there isn’t much to make. It’ll be the same with Sunday’s reception. I enjoy these little ones. I’m not running around like crazy to get everything done.”

“There are going to be more of these smaller events until everything settles down.”

“And people become comfortable in larger ones.”

“Life came to a stop and changed. Now we need to figure out a way back,” Gavin said between sips of coffee. “Just wondering. What are you going to do when Dorian finishes school and returns home? Will you keep helping with the event side?”

“I’ll return to restaurant cooking with the occasional event-planning stuff for the larger groups. The restaurant side is my passion.”

“What?” Gavin frowned in a playful, teasing manner, complete with the sad puppy-dog look that collaborated with his baby-blue eyes. “Don’t you like working with Victor and me?”

“Not the puppy-dog eyes! No! No. Stop that.” Mal snapped his towel at Gavin. “You’re evil, man, just plain evil. Not going to sway me. Nope.”

Gavin grinned while he dropped the look when he knew he’d gotten to Mal.

“Hey, I adore you, honest. I don’t mind helping with the events if I’m needed, but I’m a restaurant kitchen guy. It’s in my blood. I love the craziness of a busy evening.”

“Understandable.” Gavin finished the coffee and pushed the dishes back across. “I’ll let you get back to things. Let me know if anything changes.” He tapped his earpiece. “Unless you run into Vincent, then tap me on this.”

“Always.” After a flourish of the towel, Malcolm tucked it back around one of his apron’s ties.

Gavin left the kitchen with a fresh burst of energy. Heading through the main restaurant, he studied a couple of people from the local businesses dressing the closed-off area for the reception. Pale-blue tablecloths with sand-colored napkins and chair covers united the area. A bounty of fresh flowers in shades of cream and pale blue added a beautiful fragrance. He loved everything the florist, Jude Sebastian, designed.

Taking a moment to adjust a couple of items and locate a missing placement, he returned outside. There he found Jude and his team setting up the last of the exterior floral arrangements around the gazebo and aisle. The lighting team finished adding pin-style lights around the gazebo that went with the strings of fairy lights. The natural morning sunlight would brighten the rest of the setting.

Though he discovered the second birdcage hanging, he couldn’t locate his assistant.

Gavin tapped his headset. “Victor, where are you?”

“Helping Charles with his outfit. We have a loose button and a wobbly belly,” Victor replied. “Don’t worry. Ryan is still in the front entrance area.”

“Okay. Keep me updated. I’ll pick up our cameraman and check on the grooms next.”

“Will do.”

Gavin stepped closer to the dark-haired florist where he was tucking pale-blue and cream flowers into the birdcages. “Hey, Jude.” Memories of the Valentine’s Day surprise he’d created for Jude at Dr. Elliott Sheffield’s request to reveal their new home flashed through him. It had been one of his most memorable moments.

“Morning, Gavin. Wonderful day for a wedding.” Jude shifted his attention from the cage and flowers toward Gavin. He let out a low appreciative whistle. “Looking pretty dapper this morning. I like the paisley suspenders.”

Every single time they met, the florist commented on Gavin’s combination of bow ties and suspenders. They were his look, his trend and something he’d started with his first wedding. In a way, they remained his good-luck charms. If he needed to go a bit more formal, he had a collection of vests and a few coats more reminiscent of earlier centuries. There was a touch of steampunk style to some of his wardrobe. Today, he’d chosen gray-checked pants with a long-sleeved white button-down shirt. Due to the steamy early-July morning, he’d rolled the sleeves up his forearms then set off the look with gray paisley suspenders and matching bow tie.

“How many pairs of suspenders do you have?”

“Lost count a while ago,” Gavin admitted. “Same with the bow ties. At least a couple hundred, if not more, of each type.”

“Damn. How are we to know what set to get you for your birthday?” Jude let out a low whistle. “Sheesh. You probably have every single style and pattern.”

“No, not everything. Still missing a few sets, and more are always being revealed and designed. My collection is always growing. I’m not stopping anytime soon. There’s some higher-end ones I didn’t pick up.”

“Do you have a wish list?”

“Multiple ones.”

Jude laughed.

“Still can’t get Doc Elliott to try them?”

“Nope. Claims they get in his way in the ER.”


“Silly doctor of mine,” Jude said. “He prefers his boring scrubs.”

“He’s still a keeper. Does he have a twin?”

Jude laughed and shook his head.

“Damn. Too bad he broke the mold.”

“Oh, I’m not giving him up for anything.”

“Don’t blame you.” Gavin cupped his fingers under one bloom that was tucked into a stylized vase set on a pedestal. “These are gorgeous.”

Jude caressed one petal with a fingertip. “The one you’re touching is a morning glory. I adore that sky-blue color. The others are a combination of white mini cala lilies and ruffly double tulips. It took a bit of luck for me to find these white hybrid nerine lilies. They’re the perfect addition to intersperse among the foliage. After sending the grooms a picture, they became excited and gave me a bit of extra budget to find them.”

“I remember their excitement about it.”

“Crazy how that happens. Anyway, I chose Italian ruscus, eucalyptus and fern combinations to finish off the centerpieces and accents. Smaller versions are on the tables,” Jude said. “The grooms chose a boutonnière of a single morning glory flower and two strands of Italian ruscus. I delivered those earlier.”

“Other than tulips, I have no clue about what you just said. Tell me more.”

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About the Author

Nicole Dennis

Ever the quiet one growing up, Nicole Dennis often slid away from reality and curled up with a book to slip into the worlds of her favorite authors. Over the years, she’s created a personal library full of novels filled with dragons, fairies, vampires, shapeshifters of all kinds and romance. Always she returned to romance. Still, there were these characters in her head, worlds wanting to be built on paper, and stories wanting to be told and she began writing them down whether during or after class. She continues to this day. Only recently has it begun to become fruitful, spreading out to let others read and enter her worlds, meet her characters, and see what she sees. No matter what she writes, her stories of romance with their twists of paranormal, fantasy and erotica will always have their Happily Ever Afters.

She currently works in a quiet office in Central Florida, where she also makes her home, and enjoys the down time to slip into her characters and worlds to escape reality from time to time. At home, she becomes human slave to a semi-demonic tortie calico.


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Series Tour + Giveaway: The Vampire Guard Series by Elizabeth Noble


Author Elizabeth Noble and Gay Book Promotions host today's tour stop for The Vampire Guard Series (books #1-3)! Don't miss new release info on the latest from the series, Endosymbiont (The Vampire Guard #3)! Plus, the author hosts a giveaway for $10 Amazon Gift Cards (2 winners)!


Welcome to The Vampire Guard, where legend and myth meet science and technology.

 Vampires and werewolves live long lives. The Sleepless City saga might have ended but the story continues…

 Vampires make the best spies. Throw a smart-mouthed werewolf in with three vampires, mix well, and The Vampire Guard's newest team is bound to become one of their greatest assets. Super spies with a full range of skills. Warrior, hacker, thief, and scientist. They get in, do the job and get out before the bad guys ever know what hit them.

 They employ a combination of supernatural powers and cutting-edge technology to hunt down terrorists, thieves, biological weapons… and sometimes even their fellow vampires and werewolves. An eclectic organization comprised of individuals with diverse personalities, backgrounds, and abilities, this guard has bite—and they’re not afraid to use it.

Author and Publisher: Elizabeth Noble

Cover Artist: TL Bland

Genres: Paranormal thriller, Spyfi, Espionage, Scifi & Fantasy, Paranormal Fantasy, LGBTQ Fantasy 

Tropes: Band of Brothers, Fated Mates, Humanity is Dangerous, Immortality, Mad Scientist, Secret Society, Vampires, Werewolves

Themes: Heroes who don’t know how to quit; justice always lawful



Vampires make the best spies.

Book Title: Code Name Jack Rabbit (The Vampire Guard Book 1)

Length: 71 000 words/200 pages

Heat Rating: 3-4 flames

Release Date: January 12, 2021 (2nd Edition)


Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Book Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 


Vampires and werewolves live long lives. The Sleepless City saga might have ended but the story continues

Welcome to the Vampire Guard, where legend and myth meet science and technology.

Vampires make the best spies. Throw a smart-mouthed werewolf in with three vampires, mix well, and The Vampire Guard's newest team is bound to become one of their greatest assets. Super spies with a full range of skills. Warrior, hacker, thief, and scientist. They get in, do the job, and get out before the bad guys ever know what hit them.

Forge, Blair, Declan, and Lucas are thrust into the world of high-tech spies and top-secret espionage conspiracies. Recruited into the world’s most elite and secret organization with one singular mission. Protect those who can’t defend themselves from ruin.

Together they must thwart an assassination attempt on the open waters of Lake Superior while tracking a previously unknown biological weapon controlled by the Qiguan—a weapon which may very well mean death for one of them. 


And this time it’s personal.

Book Title: Quarry (The Vampire Guard Book 2)

Length: 66 300 words/ 185 pages

Release Date: May 18, 2021 (2nd Edition)

Heat Rating: 1-2 flames

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


Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK   


Four members of The Vampire Guard—Forge, Blair, Declan, and Lucas—face a dangerous and elusive enemy. And this time, it’s personal.

When massive tech outages impact everything from Wi-Fi to traffic control, Blair, Forge, Declan, and Lucas think it’s a simple matter of catching troublesome hackers. But they quickly realize far more is at stake.

Millions of dollars in art are the target of a thief who’s not afraid to kill---and he’s no stranger. Not only has he escaped capture, twice, a decade ago, but he’s had a hand in life-altering tragedies throughout their lifetimes.

Once it becomes clear that art theft is just a fraction of his plan for mass destruction, they realize time is running out. The clock’s ticking. Catastrophe is imminent. Can they find and disarm all the bombs in time or will countless lives be lost?


A werewolf and seven vampires are all that stand between the world and complete annihilation.

Book Title: Endosymbiont (The Vampire Guard Book 3)

Length: 63 000 words/ 180 pages

Release Date: May 4, 2022 

Heat Rating: 1-2 flames


Buy Links  

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 


When Kai Richter and Ori Bier met, sparks flew.

Then a train blew up.

Tracking an organism deadly to not only humans, but vampires and werewolves alike, brings Kai and Ori into The Vampire Guard. Decades later, they, along with Operative Team Jack Rabbit, come face to face with the horrors that same virus produces. Dead bodies are coming back to life, and rational people are becoming violent and brutal killers.

A massacre is taking place nearly a mile under the Atlantic Ocean. Two teams of The Vampire Guard are in the thick of it, fighting to survive.

Excerpt from Endosymbiont

“How do werewolves fit into this grand plan?” Ori asked. “When we first began chasing Sauer, he was collecting tissue samples and blood from werewolves too.”

“And humans,” Kai added.

“I’ve been giving that some thought as well,” Lucas began. “Both vampires and werewolves are more powerful than humans, but in different ways. As a species each has slightly different skill sets than humans. A werewolf is born, unlike a vampire. They have strong family and pack ties, so recruiting them as soldiers would likely fail unless it was something an individual wanted to do. Getting large numbers to join up for a cause outside a pack would be difficult, if not impossible. Yes, there might be German packs siding with the Nazis, but there would be an equal number, or more, of packs from other regions willing to fight on the opposing side. However, if there was a way to incorporate werewolf attributes to enhance vampires, that would be valuable if the goal were to create a super soldier.”

“Werewolves have, historically, fought in wars. However, as a group they fared much better, particularly afterward. Because of their pack system, soldiers returning from battle have a phenomenal support system. They don’t have the homelessness and mental health problems many human soldiers do,” Ori chimed in. “Humans are only now beginning to catch up to werewolf mental health.”

Lucas nodded. “Another desirable quality for a super soldier. Mental and emotional stability. There’s also the possibility he was hoping to create more than one generation of super soldiers by incorporating werewolves. I’m starting to think this guy had a clear idea of what he wanted, but not how to achieve it.”

“And then somewhere along the way in his quest to create some sort of super soldier, Sauer discovers an organism that can be weaponized,” Jonas said.

“There’s a gap in the research. A jump from analyzing the three species to what we’re dealing with now,” Lucas said. “I’m guessing the biological weapon is still a fairly new idea. Eighty years ago there simply wasn’t the technology to make this thing useful. However, as a group, scientists are hoarders and packrats. We never really throw anything away.”

“And once an idea is out there, it never goes away,” Jonas added and grinned.

“Sauer became a vampire at some point, and I bet it didn’t take long for him to realize all he had to do was hang around and wait for technology to catch up to his ideas,” Sophia said. “He might’ve been a horrible and evil man, but he certainly wasn’t stupid.”

One of the computers started chirping.

“This place is annoying,” Kai grumbled.

Blair wheeled his chair away from the table to the terminal. “It’s a heat signature. A new one.”

“From where?” Ori demanded. “How would someone get into this place without us knowing.”

Shaking his head, Blair stared at one of the monitors, moving the cursor around. He did something that dulled the noise. “Whoever it is, they didn’t come from outside, they’ve been hiding. There must be pocket areas that aren’t covered by any sensors.” 

“Heat signature, so not a vampire,” Declan said.

Blair nodded. “Too high for human.” He turned to face them. “The werewolf we couldn’t account for.” He swung back to the computer when it began making a different noise. “Kruger is in his office, but the werewolf and a human is heading that way.” Moving to another computer, Blair pressed a few keys on the keyboard and the quarters Kincade and Madison occupied appeared on one of the other monitors. 

Madison was sitting on the side of his bed, reading. It was obvious by how he yawned and stretched he’d probably only recently woken up. Kincade’s room was empty.

Blair blinked at the monitor for a few seconds before he exclaimed, “How the hell did he get out? The door is locked from the outside.”

“Air vents, or maintenance shafts.” Declan like the others, was up and moving in seconds. 

Porter started issuing orders. “Kai, Declan, Forge, with Sophia.” He turned to Ori. “You stick with Blair if he has to leave this section.” 

Ori nodded. “Yes, sir.”

About the Author 

Mystery, action, chills, and thrills spiced with romance and desire. ELIZABETH NOBLE lives by the adage "I can't not write." She doesn't remember a time when she didn’t make up stories and eventually she learned how to put words on a page. Those words turned into books and fan fiction that turned into a genuine love of M/M fiction. A part of every day is spent living in worlds she created that are filled with intrigue and espionage. She has a real love for a good mystery complete with murder and twisty plots as well as all things sci-fi, futuristic, and supernatural.

When she's not chronicling the adventures of her many characters, Elizabeth is a veterinary nurse living in her native Cleveland, Ohio. She has three grown children and now happily shares her little, brick house with two spunky Cardigan Welsh Corgis and their feline sidekicks. Elizabeth is a fan of baseball, basketball (go Cavs and Cleveland Baseball) and gardening. She can often be found working in her 'outside office' listening to classic rock and plotter her next novel waiting for it to be dark enough to gaze at the stars.

 Elizabeth has received a number of amateur writing awards. Since being published, several of her novels have received Honorable Mentions in the Rainbow Awards. Jewel Cave was a runner-up in the Gay Mystery/Thriller category in the 2015 Rainbow Awards. Ringed Love was a winner in the Gay Fantasy Romance category of the 2016 Rainbow Awards.

Author Links

Blog/Website: Emotion in Motion  |   Vampire Guard Website

Facebook  |   Facebook Author page  |  Twitter

Newsletter sign-up  |  Instagram  |  Pinterest

BookBub  |  JMS page  |  Amazon


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Audiobook Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Real Baxter (The Baxter Chronicles #1) by Lane Hayes

Author Lane Hayes and IndiGo Marketing share new audio book release info for Michael Ferraiulo narrated romance, The Real Baxter (The Baxter Chronicles #1)! Read more about the fake boyfriend romance and enter in the giveaway!

Title: The Real Baxter

Series: The Baxter Chronicles

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Narrated by: Michael Ferraiuolo

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 10 hrs and 48 mins

Genre: Romance, Bisexual, Bodyguard, Fake Boyfriend, Humor, Hurt and Comfort

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The silver-fox and the faux bodyguard…


Who’s the true hero behind the Hollywood heartthrob, crime-fighting, adventure-seeking international man of mystery? Me. I’m the real Baxter.

Well, I wear the suit and let the action play out onscreen. You want to know the secret of my success? Sell the story you want to tell. Even if you have to bend the truth a little.

Okay…a lot.

Trust me, no one will notice. Except Trent, who seems to notice everything. And for some reason, I like that. I like him. I’m just not sure what to do about it.


Look, I’m not exactly killing it. I’m a typical struggling actor-slash-waiter, hoping for a break. And boom…in walks Sebastian Rourke. He’s a cutthroat, wickedly charming silver fox, a Hollywood legend in the making. No joke. You’ve got to sell a piece of your soul to get in this man’s orbit. Or fake a British accent, then take a job playing bodyguard to fool the press. As one does.

I know I should take advantage of the very strange situation I find myself in, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for it. However, I’m willing to take a chance, ’cause I want the real Seb.

Even though it might cost me everything.

The Real Baxter is a MM age-gap, bisexual romance featuring the man who has everything and the actor who’s willing to show him what’s real.


“Home sweet home, eh?”

Seb gathered his suit coat and his takeout bag with a strained smile. “Something like that.”

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean to offend you earlier. Under different circumstances, I might go for a guy like you.”

His snort-laugh oozed sarcasm. “Wow, I’m flattered.”

I shrugged, aware that I should probably stop talking. Of course, I couldn’t do it. “You’re real. I get that. It’s just that…observationally speaking, real you and real me don’t mix. We got nothin’ in common.”

Seb unfastened his seat belt and whirled to face me. I couldn’t read him in the shadows. It would have been nice to know if he was amused or irked…or both. “Okay, first of all, ‘observationally speaking’ is a terrible way to begin any sentence and second—and most important, you know nothing about ‘real me.’ ”

I held my hands up in surrender. “You’re right. I had no idea you were the rich, old dude in the ‘Who’s your type?’ scenario.”

“I never said I was, but now that you think I am…you suddenly want to date me, eh?”

“Date you?” I scratched my temple as if mulling over the idea. “No way. But I’d totally do you.”

Seb froze with his hand on the door lever, threw his head back, and guffawed.

He literally had the best laugh I’d ever heard—contagious, hearty, and kind of wicked. It bounced merrily off the old car’s interior, making everything feel shiny and new. Including me. I couldn’t help smiling.

I tried to think of something clever and somewhat humorous to keep his attention for another minute or two, but I got sidetracked, staring at his stubbled jaw, full lips, and the deep crinkles at the corners of his eyes. For a half a beat, I wished he were someone else—less in demand, less wealthy, less connected.

Crazy, I know. This was why I didn’t go for sophisticated types. I didn’t stand a chance with a guy like Seb.

And on that dose of reality…I inclined my head with a meaningful grunt as he composed himself.

“You have no idea how tempting that sounds. Thanks for the ride. Thanks for tonight. It was…exactly what I needed.”

“Happy to be of service.”

He pulled at the handle—once, twice… “The door is stuck.”

“It does that sometimes. You just have to wiggle the handle.”

Seb tried again. “No, it’s definitely stuck.”

I unfastened my seat belt and leaned across him. Bad move. I breathed in the scent of his cologne and felt scorched by his body heat.

And of course, the door didn’t budge. I turned off the engine and held a finger up, signaling a bright idea on the horizon.

“Hang on. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way.” I hopped out of the car and used my key to manually unlock the passenger side door with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

He unfolded his long legs, somehow managing to look like an A-list celebrity sliding from the back seat of a limo at a red-carpet event. He slung his suit coat over the crook of his arm, grabbed his to-go bag, and stepped aside.

“Thank you.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. So, thanks for taking me to pick up my wheels, thanks for drinks and the burger, and thanks for not laughing at my impromptu Baxter audition.”

Seb grinned. “You’re welcome. It was…fun.”

I nodded, shoving my hands into my pockets awkwardly before angling my head toward the house. “You really rattle around in that place by yourself?”

“Yeah. My kids are here a lot. I have Oliver tomorrow and…” He squinted as if looking for something or someone in the dark. “I have friends.”

“You do?” I teased.

He made a funny face. “One or two. I think.”

We smiled as if sharing a joke. But the punchline was a silent acknowledgment of temporary camaraderie. We weren’t friends or coworkers. He probably wouldn’t remember my name next week.

However, right this very moment, we had a connection. Maybe it was akin to making friends with your seatmate on a long flight, but it was something.

I held on to it fiercely, marking the ticking seconds to the soundtrack of chirping crickets and the rustle of leaves in the late summer evening breeze. I studied the sharp planes of his cheekbones, softened by the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. I noted the hint of gray in his close-shaven beard when he licked his bottom lip and—

Oh, fuck.

Yeah, time to go.

“I should, uh…” I hiked my thumb behind me, then rested my hand on the open door. I was about to close it when I spotted his milkshake. “Do you want your shake?”

“Um…” Seb switched the to-go bag to his left hand and stepped toward me. “I think it’s gone.”

I pulled it from the cupholder and turned to find him closer than expected. As in…we stood grungy boot to Italian loafer.

I shook the cup. “Might be a little something in there.”

“No, I’m done. I can throw it away in the house. I don’t want to leave trash in your car.”

I scoffed. “Dude, have you seen my car?”

Seb chuckled…and I joined in.

When his laughter faded, we were back to staring at each other. Only now, it wasn’t awkward. It was…something completely different. A little unsteady and unsure, but somehow promising.

I didn’t move. I didn’t sidle past him with an absent good-bye or a bro high five. I didn’t try to draw him into more conversation. I didn’t want to break the spell…as if I had any power over what was happening.

And something was definitely happening. Maybe because it was so unexpected, it took me a few extra seconds to define it.

Lust. Hunger. Need.

He wanted me.

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Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions and/or were winners in the 2016, 2017, 2018-2019, 2020-2021 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.

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