Audio Blog Tour + Giveaway: White Knight (Blackwood Pack #8) by Mary Rundle

 

Author Mary Rundle and Other Worlds Ink share new info on audio book release of paranormal romance, White Knight (Blackwood Pack #8)! Read more about the Nick J. Russo narrated tale and don't miss the giveaway for a $50 Amazon gift card!

White Knight Audio - Mary Rundle

Mary Rundle has just released the audiobook version of White Knight (Blackwood Pack book 8), and it's also available in eBook and paperback. Plus there's a giveaway!

The Blackwood Pack saga continues…

This is part of an on-going series by Amazon International Bestselling Author, Mary Rundle – catching up on previous titles is advised. Readers of the past books will enjoy meeting old friends once more as the pack does what it does best ̶ caring for one another and helping shifters everywhere.

Hunter always expected to be the next Alpha of the Rolling Hills Pack until he had to walk away, leaving behind his dream, forced to build a new life for himself and his brothers. Arriving with them to visit his cousins at the Blackwood Pack, he never expects to find his mate there, but when he catches his scent, it’s impossible for him to concentrate on anything else, including a secret he has that will change his cousins’ lives.

From the moment Hunter meets Jackson, tempers flare between the two Alphas as their anger builds about secrets both are keeping. Their distrust of each other grows yet they must struggle to find common ground due to their mutual responsibilities toward Hunter’s mate.

Fionn, a rare white dragon, has fought hard for his independence, believing it will protect him from relatives who want to seize his hoard. As a recent member of the Blackwood Pack, he looks forward to sharing the future with his new family. That is, until he realizes he has a mate. Needing time to sort out his feelings, he flees to his hoard, hiding from Hunter who impatiently waits for him.

Together, Fionn and Hunter must put aside past hurts and disappointments as they try to forge a new world for themselves while facing a dangerous threat to Fionn…and to the rest of the Blackwood Pack.

Long-kept secrets, a treacherous attack, an action-packed rescue, and many unexpected twists and turns make this passionate love story by Mary Rundle impossible to put down once you’ve read the first page.

Amazon (eBook, paperback, audio)

QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads


Giveaway

Mary is giving away a $50 Amazon gift card with this tour. Enter to win:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47237/?


Excerpt

White Knight meme

Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he saw the flaring of Hunter’s nose. No fucking way! Flicking his gaze down at his cousin’s crotch, he found the telltale bulge confirming his suspicions. His cousin’s mate was one of his pack members.What the fuck do I do now? Jackson’s worries about the reason for Hunter’s visit suddenly seemed trivial compared to what he was now facing. Not wanting to see who his cousin was staring at, he rolled out his Alpha power, just enough to bring Hunter’s attention back to him. “It’s been a long time, Cousin.”

Holy Fuck! How did Jackie do that? Forced to look at his cousin, Hunter found himself unable to move. “Yes, it has,” he replied. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“Congratulations? What for?” asked Jackson.

“Becoming Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, of course,” Hunter answered.

Wondering how much his cousin knew, Jackson decided to ignore it. Instead, he asked, “Are you going to introduce your brothers to me?”

“Sure,” Hunter replied, but anxious to know the name of his mate, he continued, “but that’s quite a welcoming group you have for us, considering you didn’t know we were arriving today. Do you mind introducing them to me first?”

Standing next to Logan on the porch, Kieran watched the two posturing Alphas with amusement. Suddenly, his spirit spoke to him. Breaking away from his mate, he bolted down the steps.

“Babe! Wait! What are you doing?” called Logan, torn between following his mate and obeying Jackson’s orders to remain where he was. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Macushla, I’m needed! Don’t worry!” Kieran yelled, sprinting towards the motorhome.

Asking their spirit what his mate was doing, Logan gasped, his jaw dropping. Not believing what he heard, he leapt off the porch, shouting, “Wait babe, wait! Jackson, stop Kieran!”

Breaking eye contact with Hunter, Jackson looked over his cousin’s shoulder, catching sight of Kieran opening the motorhome door. “Kieran, stop!” he commanded, upping his Alpha power to force his brother’s mate to obey.

Hunter, following his cousin’s gaze, saw a slender figure about to climb up the steps leading to the inside. What the fuck is going on here? Not knowing who it was, he threw out his Alpha power and ordered, “Stop now!”

Frozen in his tracks as the power from both Alphas temporarily stunned him, Kieran’s spirit took over, breaking him free of their hold, allowing him to scramble up the steps. Once inside, he came face to face with three pairs of eyes staring at him in astonishment. “Hi cousins, nice to meet you but if you don’t mind, can we talk later because I’m needed.” Hurrying to the first door he found, Kieran popped it open. “Hi there, don’t you look fabulous! I love your dress, but can we talk later? Thanks.” Closing the door, he hurried to the next one. Placing his hand on it, he knew this was where he was supposed to be. Quietly slipping inside, he said, “Hi, don’t worry, I’m here to help.”

“Who the fuck was that?” asked Sawyer.

“How did he know?” Robin asked.

“Oh, shit,” Mason said, looking at the big shifter who’d just joined Jackson and Hunter. “This doesn’t look good.”

Stopping next to Jackson, Logan asked, “Why didn’t you stop Kieran?”

“Who’s Kieran?” asked Hunter, “And why did he break into my motorhome?”

“Fuck you, asshole!” Logan snarled.

“Logan, stop,” Jackson ordered.

“Logan?” Hunter asked, astounded at how big his cousin’s twin was. The last time he’d seen Logan, he was a skinny, short kid.

“Logan, meet Hunter, our cousin,” Jackson said.

Giving his cousin an angry glance, Logan turned back to his brother. “Bro, I need to speak to you…alone!”

At a loss for what was going on, Hunter decided to retreat. “I understand. I’ll just be in there, finding out about who decided to invite himself into my motorhome… without permission, I might add.”

“You touch my mate and it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” snarled Logan.

“Your mate? That twink is your mate?” asked Hunter, incredulously.

Seeing red at the implied insult, Logan began to shift, having had enough of his cousin’s attitude towards Kieran.

Glancing at the motorhome, Jackson saw fear and anger in the faces staring back at him. Instantly aware of what would happen if he didn’t put a stop to the brewing conflict, he sent out his Alpha power a bit stronger, waiting until his brother and cousin tilted their heads in submission. “Hunter, stay where you are while I speak to my brother alone. Understand?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Hunter said. Feeling Jackson’s control, he stood still, watching his cousins walk away from him, smirking at their attempt to keep him from listening with his wolf hearing. Shifting his gaze, Hunter sought out the man on the porch who was now tied to him by the Fates, wondering how his cousin would react when he took his mate back east.

Once Jackson felt he and Logan were far enough away from Hunter, he stopped and said, “Okay, what’s Kieran up to now?”

Glancing over his brother’s shoulder to make sure Hunter wasn’t heading for the motorhome, Logan leaned in and whispered into his brother’s ear.

Jerking back, Jackson stared at Logan. “That’s fucking impossible!”

Shaking his head, Logan leaned in again and repeated himself.

The color drained from Jackson’s face as the implications of Logan’s news sank in. Looking toward the porch and zeroing in on his brothers, he thought about how this news would hit them. Then, turning back to Logan, Jackson murmured, “Are you absolutely positive?”

“Yes.”

“Is Kieran okay?”

Logan asked their spirit before answering, “Yes, he’s doing what he can.”

“Get Ian and Colton here but don’t let them know why.”

“Will do, but please protect my mate,” Logan said, before heading for the porch.

Nodding, Jackson strode over to Hunter, blocking his view of the porch and snarled, “What the fuck are you trying to pull? Why didn’t you tell me about this in the first email you sent?”

Waves of powerful anger emanated from Jackson, nearly pushing Hunter to his knees. Forcing himself to stand his ground, he answered, “I did what my mother wanted.”


Author Bio

Mary Rundle logo

A few years ago, I wrote my first book, Dire Warning. Readers loved it and I was on my way to chronicle the Blackwood Pack, seven brothers who are gay wolf shifters in search of their fated mates—stories about love at first sight with twists and turns, angst and humor, romance and adventure and, of course, happy endings. Since then, the pack has expanded, allowing more stories to be told and different paranormals to be included. The series has become, as one reader described it…an “Epic Saga.”

Now, eleven books later, Blood Prophecy, has just been published. I love the M/M paranormal genre because it gives my imagination a lot of territory in which to roam. My mind can really run wild and come up with some amazing stuff when it doesn’t have to stay inside the box. My story ideas come to me as if they were being channeled by my characters, all of whom I love (except for a few villains). They are eager to recount their lives, loves and adventures, and are not reluctant to let it all out when it comes to revealing steamy details. My writing style is free-wheeling and uninhibited and my readers tell me they love it that way; that it makes them feel like they’re right in on the action and a member of the Blackwood Pack.

I live in the Northeast and love the beautiful change of seasons, my husband, and our quirky calico cat, though not necessarily in that order. I read a lot (good for the mind) and love gardening (good for the soul). And I’m always happy to hear from my readers and can be reached through Facebook, my private Facebook Group, Twitter, Instagram, or my website.

Author Website: https://www.maryrundle.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/maryrundle69

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/maryrundleauthor/

Author Facebook (Blackwood Pack: https://www.facebook.com/groups/171112140176036

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/MaryRundle69

Author TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@maryrundleauthor

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/maryrundle69

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14246427.Mary_Rundle

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/mary-rundle/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Rundle/e/B0763CDQQ6

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Release Blitz: The Fractured Fallen (D’Vaire #29) by Jessamyn Kingley

Author Jessamyn Kingley and Gay Book Promotions celebrate the release of the latest fated mates romance, The Fractured Fallen (D’Vaire #29)! Read more about it today!

 

RELEASE BLITZ

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

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

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

Gentry relished the last bite of his dessert and grinned at Toby. “Did you want to dance?” 

The room had filled with soft music, which was perfect to sway to. Many couples were already near the stage, moving to the melody.

“I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you. We don’t have to do anything crazy,” Gentry assured him. 

Toby’s nerves and his lack of guile when it came to admitting everything he had no clue how to do endeared the fallen knight to Gentry. 

“Slow dancing isn’t too difficult,” Gentry said.

“This will sound crazy, but I’m not the best at physical stuff.”

“Oh, come on, only Juris Knights suck at physical stuff,” Gentry said with a laugh.

Toby leaned toward Gentry so no one would overhear him. “The Juris Knight at our table doesn’t seem to agree.”

“He’s frowning, but it’s true. I’m a fallen knight, I can’t lie.”

“I can’t tell if you’re lying.”

“Yeah, I think Fate did that on purpose. It’s so I can lie to you if you have on a truly horrible outfit. I’ll assure you it’s wonderful.”

“Please tell me if I’m wearing something horrible.”

“If you insist,” Gentry said. “You sure you don’t want to dance?”

“I’ll try, but I make no promises that we won’t embarrass ourselves and the entire Order of the Fallen Knights.”

“Not being perfect at something doesn’t mean we’re letting down our entire race,” Gentry said as he stood. Once again, Gentry held out a hand to Toby, who didn’t hesitate to take it after he rose. Gentry weaved between the tables with Toby in tow until he reached the cleared area that served as the dance floor. 

“Okay, what do I do?” Toby asked when they stopped.

Gentry turned to face Toby and put an arm around him. It brought them closer, and Gentry sternly warned his dick to behave. Without the need to be told, Toby mirrored his actions. Since they hadn’t let go of each other, Gentry raised his other arm so they were in the proper position to dance. 

“Just move your feet from side to side. We don’t have to do anything fancy. Follow my lead.”

“I can do that.”

Within a minute or two they synced their footsteps and were moving slowly to the lovely music piping through the speakers. 

“I told you it was easy,” Gentry said.

“I like being close to you.”

“We’re killing this mate thing so far.”

“You’re the first person who doesn’t make me nervous to be around them,” Toby confided. 

There was such earnestness in his pretty eyes that Gentry unconsciously came to a stop. 

“Are you okay?” Toby asked.

“I’d like to kiss you.”

Without a word, Toby raised up onto his toes, and Gentry wasn’t stupid enough to deny the invitation. Their lips met with exquisite tenderness. It was a moment frozen in time, and Gentry vowed to remember it for eternity. When Toby tilted his head, Gentry didn’t bother to resist darting his tongue out to deepen their caress. 

Toby moaned softly as they explored each other. While couples milled around them, Gentry lost all awareness of the outside world. He was steeped in Toby. They broke apart slowly, and Gentry stared into Toby’s stunned gaze. 

“I’m glad I waited for you to be my first kiss,” Toby said.

Gentry smiled at him. “I’m glad you did too.”

About the Author 

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

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

Visit her website 

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn's Ruffian's

Social Media Links

  Facebook |   Twitter  |   Pinterest  

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Release Blitz: Tongues by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

Authors Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid and Gay Book Promotions share new release for Tongues! Read more about the horror today!
 

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Tongues

Author: Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

Publisher: Eine Kleine Press

Cover Artist: Clancy Nacht

Release Date: May 17, 2022

Genre: LGBTQ+ horror fiction, Lovecraftian horror

Tropes: Forced proximity, fate

Themes: Saving the world, Interracial mc, black mc, lgbt, horror, adult, cosmic horror, occult horror, paranormal suspense, occult fiction

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length:  51 000 words/170 pages

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

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Cosmically tormented FBI linguist investigates famous actor's unspeakable past and discovers an eldritch power the government seeks to exploit  

Blurb

Cosmically tormented FBI linguist Ekon is the only one B-list heartthrob Chris will talk to about the Farm, a horrifying cult of which he's the only known survivor. As they bond over mysterious pasts and their unsettling attraction, Ekon discovers an eldritch power his government bosses would love to exploit, one that could spell the end of everything.

While there are queer and romantic elements, this is a horror novel.


Content Warning: Violence, gore, horror, mentions of CSA

Excerpt 

In a black, Fed-issued SUV, Ekon pulled up outside Daimon’s luxury apartment at the appointed hour. A trickle of sweat snaked down Ekon’s spine in LA’s abundant spring warmth, turning cold as he headed through the air-conditioned lobby to the elevator. Though it should’ve been a bustling, well-secured complex, there didn’t seem to be a soul around.

Palming his badge, he strode down a long, empty, gray-walled hallway and knocked at Daimon’s door.

“Mr. Daimon, it’s Agent Adams with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. We have an appointment?”

There was nothing, not a sound on the other side. Was Daimon even at home? Was anyone?

Then Ekon heard it: The eerie rustle of the nameless language. Born not of wind or whistling pipes, it emanated this time from the corridor’s buzzy fluorescent bulbs as if presaging the coming of something unutterable.

Without even the sound of a loosed deadbolt, the door yawned open, and a familiar young white man stood before Ekon. He was damp, naked but for the towel clinging precariously around his hips, and in excellent physical shape.

The world went silent, as if muted by the force of Daimon’s presence. There was only the fluorescents’ unholy rustling and a high-pitched, constant scream like the aftermath of a high-powered gunshot.

Then Daimon smiled.

Ambient noise returned with crippling ferocity: Traffic outside the complex, neighbors within, as painfully intense as if they were all trapped inside Ekon’s skull. Even his heartbeat deafened him, a muffled thudding in his inner ears one instant per second.

The young man tilted his head, wet hair dripping onto his shoulder. His eyes—a bright blue even more piercing than on television—scanned Ekon slowly up and down with careful sensuousness that left Ekon feeling undressed.

Then Daimon blinked slowly, like a happy cat, and turned sideways to allow Ekon in.

“They sent you alone?”

Why did he sound so amused?

About the Authors 

Together, Texans and platonic life partners Thursday Euclid and Clancy Nacht write queer novels that span genres, with intense romances and a seamless shared narrative voice.

They published their first co-written novel, the m/m rock star romance Black Gold, in 2010, and now have over a decade of award-winning collaborations under their exquisite belts. Recent titles include the twisted romance His Fake Prison Daddy and the Phisher King series, in which an uptight federal agent and a bratty hacker go from enemies to lovers while solving a hate crime.

Though Elder Millennial trans man Thursday and Gen X gender outlaw Clancy live three hours apart, they are inseparable. Their friendship is a perfect example of the Grumpy/Sunshine trope, which makes Thursday very happy. Clancy thinks it’s all right.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Twitter  |   Twitter  |   Instagram  

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Spark (The Fire of Felwing #2) by Elizabeth Tybush


Author Elizabeth Tybush and IndiGo Marketing promote new release, Spark (The Fire of Felwing #2)! Discover more about the fantasy and enter in the NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Spark

Series: The Fire of Felwing, Book Two

Author: Elizabeth Tybush

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 05/17/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 107300

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, bisexual, pansexual, magic, dragons, slow burn, magic users, friends to lovers, mythical creatures, royalty, redemption, past mistakes, portals

Add to Goodreads


Description

Immediately following the stunning Halloween reveal in Flicker…

Prince Solin Felwing’s exile on Earth went from tranquil to dangerous with a spark of magick. Now, severed from his redemption and his friends at the soup kitchen, Solin is left to sort out his unstable powers, his guilty conscience, and the realities of pursuing a relationship with a certain charming barista. At least his human friend Sam stuck around, although he’s getting tailed by his ex and his tech is going haywire, so things aren’t going great for him either.

As the holidays draw near, Solin discovers his name on someone’s Naughty List. With a protection detail of ghosts from his past, and a growing threat from the rogue humans of the Shadowfall Alliance, Solin must keep his worlds from colliding without losing what few friends he has left. Because those hunting him no longer care about collateral damage; they’ll torch everything he’s built, and anyone who gets in the their way will be consumed by the flames.

Excerpt

Spark
Elizabeth Tybush © 2022
All Rights Reserved

2017

Polaris, New York

The new ringtone I’d applied to Sam’s number echoed in the kitchen. I paused the television and glowered at the phone from the sofa. What now? Another blip notifying him of a portal from Cydrithenna? A warning that agents from the Shadowfall Alliance were on their way to kill me? Or had he merely hacked into my phone and heard what had happened with Brida on Halloween?

I’d already scolded myself enough for that. I didn’t deserve to have any semblance of my powers back, nor anyone’s kindness. Not after the terror I instilled in someone I cared about, someone who never did anything wrong and who did not betray me. I had betrayed her. I had become my worst nightmare. I hadn’t changed at all.

The phone ceased ringing. A minor pause. It blared again.

“Fine.” If this curse was going to fade on me, then I might as well make use of my powers. I continued lying on the sofa and willed the phone toward me with telekinesis. It floated unsteadily. With illusory magick, I transformed it into a tablet, then a chair, then a dog. Easy enough. I returned it to its original state and answered.

“What.”

“Did I wake you? You sound pissed.”

“What do you want, Sam?”

“I want you to get out of there and come hang out with me.”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

The phone rang again the moment I hung up.

“Sam. I mean it. I’m not interested. And since when do you call me again? I thought those friends of yours had gotten access to your phone.”

“Line’s safe again. Trust me,” he said over the sound of clanking glasses and laughter. “And hey, whatever’s bothering you, I promise, it’s not going to—yeah, two more of those, and a round for that table over there, yeah, thanks—sorry. It’s not going to bother you anymore, I promise.”

I rubbed my forehead. Although my powers had returned, the ability to erase tension headaches eluded me. “Are you at a bar?”

“Yes, and you should be here too. I’ll text you the address.”

The thought of drinking made my stomach churn. “I’ll pass.”

“Don’t hang up again. Look, what do I have to do to get you to come out tonight?”

“Perhaps tell me why it’s so urgent.” I’d abstained from drowning my guilt in liquor last night, despite my slightly improved constitution. I’d woken up on the floor of my bathroom too many times early in my exile, and I didn’t care for it. With Sam, I’d be putting myself in that compromising situation again, and risked deepening the hole I had dug myself into.

“There’s someone here you need to meet. Oh—what? Oh, okay. Gotta go, Solin. Bye.”

I sneered at the phone in my palm and let it rest on my chest. Sam’s message lit up the screen. I barely lifted the phone and stared at the address until the screen decided I’d been idle too long. Its light faded.

As did my judgment.

Sam might’ve actually heard my desire to help humanity more than one meal at a time and brought in someone new for me to work with. I had no intention on slogging my way back to the kitchen again. I’d already lied to Victoria about being ill for today’s shift, and she blamed a hangover that I wish I’d had as punishment for lying to her. But what of tomorrow, when Brida and I would be there together?

Would Brida even show?

Would I?

I could not let Brida leave a place she loved. This was her workplace first, not mine.

I changed out of what I’d fallen asleep in last night, choosing gray pants and a plain casual sweater with sleeves that had trouble staying rolled up. I threw on a light coat and headed to the address. I didn’t mask, but being so vulnerable, and apparently recognizable, to at least one person in Polaris made me paranoid. How long until Gaian technology, as primitive as it was, encapsulated my digital image and fed it through a mystical algorithm to determine my identity? In my prime, I’d been able to fool cameras, but I doubted that ability had returned yet. I glanced at the storefront windows as I walked. At least I could manipulate reflections again.

I arrived at the bar, passing through the outer gate of smokers and their toxic cloud into an upscale dive of wood, warm light, and rock music. Athletes graced the screens, and few patrons paid any attention to the newcomer. Sam knew what he was doing.

I found Sam at a high top table flirting with a woman I didn’t recognize. He whispered something to her that had the effect of politely shooing her. I was relieved he hadn’t called his non-friend out to hook up with a stranger.

“Aren’t you in a monogamous relationship, Sam?” I said, taking a seat on the stool across from him. I hung my coat on a hook beneath the tall table.

“We’re kind of experimenting with this whole ‘she isn’t monogamous right now, and it’s all my fault’ thing.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“It’s been an ongoing experiment. Actually we broke up before you arrived. Not here. Tonight. But here. You know. Here. Earth.”

“I understa—”

“And then we got back together again. And broke up. Last week. I think.” He shook his head. “Anyway, feels good to get your ass out of bed, doesn’t it?”

“I wasn’t in bed.” Never mind that I’d been lying on the sofa.

“You sounded pretty perturbed.”

“I was watching something.”

“What?”

“Star Trek.”

He blinked at me. “You were watching…” He leaned over the table, eyed me like I were a specimen, then leaned back. “Okay, hold on. You were watching Star Trek. Which one? Go.”

“The episode with—”

“Sorry, not episode, I mean series.”

I blinked at him. “I don’t understand.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Liz plays way too much Minecraft and dreams about producing a television series. She loves an old-fashioned film noir and, unlike her character Solin, takes her coffee with a healthy dose of milk. Recent accomplishments include a 2019 fellowship at the Storytellers’ Institute and the book you’re about to read. 

Flicker is her debut novel with NineStar Press. To learn more about The Fire of Felwing series and other upcoming stories, visit Liz at elizabethtybush.com.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Winning Over Harmon (Love Me Do #3) by Megan Slayer


Author Megan Slayer and Pride Publishing promote new release,Winning Over Harmon (Love Me Do #3)! Read more about the latest in the series and enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!

Winning Over Harmon by Megan Slayer

Book 3 in the Love Me Do series

Word Count:  42,193
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 169

GENRES:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

Add to Goodreads


Book Description

Second chances are possible if you’re willing to give love a chance.

Harmon Keyes wasn’t looking for romance when he visited Roy Mars’ gallery show, but the moment he sees Winston Saint, he’s smitten. He has no idea who Winston is, but the attraction is off the charts. He also isn’t sure if he’ll ever see the man again. Can a trip to Dye Hard Style help get him together with Winston?

Michael Winston Saint knew the second he spotted Harmon that he’d fallen head over heels. He’d never forget the geeky guy who talked too much or that kiss full of electricity and passion. Unfortunately, he has to leave the gallery show before he can give Harmon his number. He returns to Norville for a rest and the chance to connect with his dream man. Winston’s determined to win over Harmon at all costs.

Will the teacher and the rock star be able to make a go of their relationship? Or will the gossip and complication of small-town life be more than they can handle?

Reader advisory: This book contains references to addiction and inadequate parenting.

Excerpt

“You’re sure this is the place to find someone?” Winston asked. “I mean, it’s an art gallery. How many hot guys are going to be here?” He elbowed his band member and best friend, Duke.

“Why would I tell you to come to this if there weren’t hot guys?” Duke shrugged. “I mean I don’t know if there are available men here. There are people here and that’s what you need. Look, I don’t care if you find someone or not, but I want you to get on with your life. This is a good place to meet people―even if they aren’t hot men. You just need to talk to someone who isn’t famous and we won’t be recognized here. Promise. The focus is on Roy.”

“It should be.” He spied one of the paintings. The art might have been created by Roy, but the pieces focused on Duke. The romance between the men blossomed and shimmered on every painting and in each photograph.

Winston sighed. He wanted a love like this. Wanted to be desired and craved. He’d thought he had this with his previous girlfriends, but no one had really loved him. They loved the image and the money connected with him. He resumed looking at the art and drinking in the images. People milled around and some chatted, but they did leave him alone, like Duke had said they would. He delighted in being able to walk around without being accosted. No one cared he was famous. The art mattered.

He stopped in front of a gold-framed painting of Duke on a stool. He’d never looked at his friend in the nude—not intentionally. They’d shared moments in the shower when the entire band had had to use one hotel room, but he’d never looked at Duke like a lover. But this way made him seem sexy and approachable, but sad and lonely, too.

“Have you ever seen anything so sensual?” a woman beside him asked. “It’s like the artist captured him at his most vulnerable.” She clicked her tongue. “I love it.”

“It’s nice.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to keep looking at Duke this way. He wandered over to another piece, an abstract one. He liked these better because he could interpret them as he pleased. He liked the play of color blocks.

“Do you like that one?” The curator gestured to the work. “Only three thousand dollars. Might be wonderful above the sofa.”

He snorted. He didn’t have a couch, much less a home to put either in. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“About its worth? Or the placing?” the curator asked. “I’m sure you could come up with a better placement. Just a suggestion.”

“This seems more like a statement piece than a placeholder in a room.” He nodded. “But I’m considering buying it.”

“You are?” The curator grinned. “I’ll let the others know it’s under consideration.”

“Sure.” He glanced over to his right and paused. A man he’d never seen stood before one of the photograph series. Winston’s breath lodged in his throat. The moment he looked at the guy, he wanted to get to know him.

He strode across the room, dodging and weaving around the people in the crowd until he reached the mystery man. He’d never forget him if he tried. He liked the way this person’s sport coat seemed tailored for his body, the way he carried himself with confidence and the slight graying at his temples. He wanted to touch him and memorize every detail of his face. To dance with him and kiss… Oh God, he wanted to kiss him.

“What are you doing?” Duke asked. He nudged Winston. “You’re drooling.”

“Would you believe I’m in love?” He faced Duke. “The moment I saw him across the room, I fell in love.”

“You fall for someone after every concert, too.” Duke rolled his eyes. “Who is it?”

“The guy over there.” He gestured to the man, trying not to be obvious. “Dark hair, dark eyes, tall…handsome. I want him.”

“He’s not a possession.” Duke swatted Winston’s arm. “He’s a person.”

“I know that.” He glared at his bandmate. “Jesus. I’m not heartless.” He didn’t want to own this guy. Just experience him and find out if they could be together forever. “It’s like that old song. I’ve seen his face and I can’t forget it. I can’t forget that I want to be with this person, and I want everyone to know I’m in love.”

Duke snorted. “In love. You have no idea what love is.”

“Maybe it’s time I found out.” He swatted Duke’s arm again. “Excuse me. I need to meet my destiny.”

“Right.” Duke didn’t chase him.

Good. He didn’t want to be chased. The attraction was instant. He needed to know this handsome man in the suit coat. He stopped beside the guy. “Do you like this painting?”

The man rocked on his feet and chuckled. “I like a lot of art.” He met Winston’s gaze. “Do you?”

“Like this work? Sure.” Winston swept his gaze over him. Dark hair, deep hazel eyes with chips of green among the brown, thick lashes and the guy reminded him of a professor. The studious nature spoke to Winston. He’d bet this guy wasn’t trouble. Wouldn’t get him into trouble or con him into going back to his drug habit.

“Is this your first show?” the man asked.

“Of this sort, yeah.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Is it yours?”

“No, I like to visit the various shows here at the gallery. I appreciate art. I’m not artistic at all, but I like to look at it.” He smiled and the warmth in his smile lit in his eyes. “My name is Harmon.”

He offered his hand to Harmon. He liked the sound of his name and the way his skin tingled when they touched. “I’m…Michael.” He didn’t want to admit his stage name just yet. If Harmon could like him without the airs of his fame, then they had a chance of making it. Too many people couldn’t see beyond the glitter of celebrity.

“Hi, Michael.” Harmon gestured to the painting. “What do you think of this one? I like the play of light, but the sadness in the subject really gets to me. It’s like I’m looking into the soul of the man, while being closed off from what’s wrong.”

Damn. He simply saw yet another painting of a naked Duke. He pieced through what Harmon had said. He hated having to hide his true emotions behind the mask of the character he’d created for the rock music stage. Few saw the pain he hid because he’d closed himself off from so many people.

“Is that what you see, too?” Harmon asked. “I’m famous for getting these things wrong.” He chuckled. “My friend Suzanne would tell you I see things that aren’t there.”

“Suzanne?” Shit. He hadn’t considered this guy might not be gay. “Girlfriend?”

“God, no. She wants to be more, but she’s just a fellow teacher. She thinks we’ll make beautiful babies. I hate to tell her I’m not interested in being a dad. Ever.” Harmon blushed. “Shit. I’ve talked too much.”

“Not at all.” Winston snagged two glasses of sparkling cider from the tray. “Have one?”

“Thank you.” Harmon sipped the drink. “I’m told the artist and his husband are recovering addicts, so no booze. I don’t mind when someone drinks, but I’m not much of a drinker. I can’t hold my liquor.” He blushed again. “And I’m talking too much again.”

“You’re fine.” Winston liked learning about him. “How long have you been teaching?”

“Twelve years.” Harmon grinned and held up his glass. “I got hired right out of college here in Norville. I love teaching in a small town. The moment I took the job, I felt like I’d been welcomed into the town. I became part of the family.”

“It does seem like this place is one big family.” Everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business—except Duke hadn’t known Harmon. According to Duke, Norville was the place to disappear into and find his footing.

“Anyway, they don’t mind that I’m gay, don’t mind that I like being a history nerd and that I’m not interested in being a parent.” Harmon sipped his cider. “What about you? What brings you to the show tonight?”

“My friend encouraged me to come along.” More like conned him, then begged and pushed. “I’m glad I did.” His phone buzzed in his back pocket. Shit. He’d answer it later. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Harmon toyed with the stem of his glass. “So do you live in Norville?”

“I’m looking for a place, but I’m living with a friend.” He needed to get out of Duke’s basement and fast. “Do you know of any good apartments? Or houses?”

“I live in the Cordell building. It’s three blocks from the high school. It’s a small apartment building and I doubt there’s any openings, but I found it through the apartment finder paper. It’s online now. Search Norville apartments and you’ll find it.” Harmon shook his head. “I talk too much. Suzanne would’ve chewed me out by now. She’d tell me I disclosed too much.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He liked how he’d managed to get Harmon to open up. A woman elbowed him and he gestured to Harmon. “Why don’t we go over here? I think we’re monopolizing the painting.”

“Sure.” Harmon followed him to the edge of the room away from the works. “I tend to get wrapped up in the art and it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t a fellow teacher.”

“Then it’s a good thing we met. I’m not a teacher and could never impart information to students.” He chuckled and toyed with his glass. “I play music.”

“Are you in a band?” Harmon asked.

“I was.” He still had the band, but the Saints were on hiatus. One day he’d get them back together—after he did his stint with the supergroup he’d joined, Big Philo. He hated being without music. “I just like singing.”

“What kind of music?”

“Rock. I like emoting through my songs.” He hesitated a beat. Most people knew who he was, but this man seemed oblivious. “Have you heard of the Saints?”

“No.” Harmon downed more of his cider. “I gravitate more toward oldies and classical music.” He rolled his eyes. “I guess that’s fitting. I like history and would rather listen to old tunes.”

“It’s nice. I like the classics, too. It’s nice to get back to the roots when you sing. I practice on the old songs to get limbered up to perform.” He nodded. “Plus, those songs are so great. Complex, but simple and so full of emotion. I hear them and I know exactly what the singer is going through. Are they in love, breaking up, sadly single…crushing?”

“Yeah.” Harmon’s smile built slowly and his eyes sparkled. “Like how I saw the art.”

“It is.” He held out his hand and the second he touched Harmon’s fingers, sparks shot through his body, just like before. “I have to ask. Are you seeing anyone?” He needed to know if he had competition for Harmon’s attention.

“No.” Harmon inched closer to him. “I’m very single.”

“Would…would you like to have coffee sometime?” Winston asked. “And talk some more?”

“I’d love that.” Harmon placed his nearly empty glass on a close table and opened his mouth to speak, but someone pushed and he collided with Winston. The move managed to knock the rest of the cider from Winston’s glass onto his shirt. “I’m so sorry,” Harmon apologized. “Let me get you some napkins.”

“I’m not going to melt.” He put his glass with Harmon’s and allowed Harmon to blot his shirt. “The last time I had someone clean me up was when I caught the flu.” He’d been so sick and hungover that the roadies had had to carry him off stage. “Thanks.”

“It’s all part of being a teacher. I want to fix things for people.” Harmon continued to sop up the drink. He slowed his touches, seeming to caress Winston’s chest. “You’re like steel under there.”

“I work out.” Instead of drink or get high. “Do you?”

“I run laps at the school. It’s one big square, so it’s easy to do laps indoors or head to the track when it’s nice.” Harmon flattened his hand on Winston’s chest. “Is it just me, or did the temperature spike?”

“It’s warm.” He inched closer to Harmon. “But I like it.” He liked Harmon. He memorized the crinkles at the corners of Harmon’s eyes, the sprinkling of hairs on his cheeks and chin and the way his cologne wrapped around Winston. “May I kiss you?”

Harmon nodded. Instead of answering in words, he bridged the gap between them and kissed Winston.

Winston bit back his initial shock at being touched and kissed, then melted into the connection. He liked being kissed. Liked being held. He grasped Harmon’s hands and kept him close. The softness of Harmon’s lips competed with the slight scratch of his short whiskers. When Harmon opened to him, Winston sucked on Harmon’s tongue. He liked the way this man tasted and the way he felt against him. They were tailored for each other.

Harmon whimpered and deepened the kiss. He bumped noses with Winston and let go of his hands, then slid his arms around Winston.

God, yes. Winston swayed with Harmon, never wanting this moment to end. His synapses misfired and the rest of the world seemed to melt away. Nothing mattered except this kiss.

“There you are.” Someone Winston didn’t know swatted his arm. “Hey.”

Winston rested his forehead on Harmon’s, then sighed. “I think we’re being interrupted.”

“We are.” Harmon blushed and put some space between them. “And they’re staring at you.”

He’d thought so. He could’ve sworn he felt the stare boring into his side. Why did this person have to interrupt him right now? He hooked his fingers in Harmon’s front pants pockets, then stared at the person touching him. “Yes?”

“You’re not responding to your phone.” The man folded his arms. “I’ve been sent to talk to you.”

“Are you being investigated by the IRS?” Harmon asked. “Or the CIA?”

“Neither.” He kissed Harmon on the cheek. “Give me a moment. I’d like to spend more time with you, but I need to address this first. Okay?”

“Sure.” Harmon let go and nodded to the gentleman, then disappeared into the crowd.

Winston gritted his teeth. “What do you want?”

“You need to answer your phone,” the man said. “Dazzle, Ronny, Vik and Rummy are expecting you at the next five gigs. You did remember you signed on to front Big Philo for five shows, right?”

“I remember.” He did, but he’d sort of hoped they’d forgotten about him. “They start next week, right?”

“Tomorrow.”

Fuck. “I need to tell Harmon I’m leaving.” Where was Harmon? “Just a moment.” He surged into the crowd, locating Duke and Roy, but not Harmon. He grasped Duke’s sleeve. “Hey. I need to go.”

“Gonna leave with the guy you were over there kissing?” Duke winked. “He’s cute. Not as cute as Roy, but hey. I got the best guy around.”

“Yeah. The thing is, I’m not leaving with Harmon.” He needed to find him. “Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t.” Duke frowned. “What’s up?”

“I said I’d play with Big Philo and they want me tomorrow. It’s my own fault. I over-scheduled myself.” And he’d have to get going if he planned on making it to the plane to head to the gig on time. “Help me find him.”

“I thought you were done with music for a while. Why pick a supergroup? Jesus. Dazzle alone will get you back on the sauce. You’ve made so much progress.” Duke grabbed Winston’s arm. “Don’t do it.”

“I have to go. I’m contractually bound.” He still didn’t see Harmon. Shit. “I want to tell him goodbye and that I’ll be back.”

“I’ll tell him.” Duke snorted. “I see Lee coming. He looks pissed. Go, but keep your fucking head on. Don’t you dare start taking again. I will kick your ass.”

“I’ll kick my ass.” He growled. “Okay. If I see him before I leave, I’ll tell him I’m going, but please tell him, too. Oh and there’s a painting the curator thinks I’m buying. Tell him I am and let me know what I owe. He said he’d put a hold on it.”

“I’ll handle it.” Duke nodded. “Count on me.”

“Thanks.” He left Duke by the painting of a vase, then hurried to the door with Lee. He’d rather be staying, but he’d signed contracts to say he’d front the supergroup and he had to live up to the contracts. He stopped at the door to look for Harmon one more time without luck. The guy was starting to feel like a figment of his imagination.

“Are you ready?” Lee snapped his fingers. “We need to go.”

“Yeah.” He’d have to explain the situation to Harmon when he returned because, damn it, he was coming back to Norville. He wasn’t done with Harmon. Not by a long shot.

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About the Author

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Find out more about Megan on her website, and sign up for the newsletter here. You can also check out her Blog, Amazon Author Page, Bookbub and Instagram.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Playing for Keeps (Miami Piranhas #1) by Beth Bolden


Author Beth Bolden and Gay Book Promotions share new release info for Playing for Keeps! Learn more about the sports romance and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Playing for Keeps

Author and Publisher: Beth Bolden

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood Designs

Release Date: May 11, 2022

 Genres: Gay contemporary sports romance

Tropes: Forbidden love, age gap, player/coach’s son

Themes: Overcoming fear, positive change, growing trust

Heat Rating: 4 flames     

Length: 85 000 words

It’s the first book in a new series

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US   |  Amazon UK 

Blurb

Sebastian Howard is the best damn cornerback in the NFL.

Or at least he was.

Age and injuries have taken a toll, and while most people have written him off, Sebastian isn’t ready to acknowledge that at only thirty-two, he’s already in the twilight of his career.

He signs with the Miami Piranhas intending to prove everyone wrong.

Only to realize that the head coach’s son, out-and-proud Beau Dawson, doesn’t believe he can.

Beau is infuriating but brilliant, and when he offers to help him on the field, Sebastian wants to say yes, but there’s one thing stopping him: the unexpected, inconvenient, and all-consuming crush he doesn’t want to have on Beau.

But Beau isn’t interested in playing it safe, with football or with anything else, and soon they’re embroiled in a hot—and secret—affair that would finish Sebastian’s career if Coach Dawson found out.

As Sebastian falls harder for Beau, he begins to realize that actually the worst thing in the world isn’t getting benched, but losing the man he loves.

Excerpt 

The bartender set a new round of drinks in front of them.

“I shouldn’t,” Beau said.

“Why not?”

Because if I have another drink, I’m going to think it’s a really, really good idea to have sex with you, and it’s not.

Sebastian broke into laughter then, and Beau realized, humiliation flushing his cheeks, that he’d said that out loud.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have another one,” Sebastian said, still chuckling as he swirled the straw in his own drink. But then he shot him a speculative glance, and Beau realized he wasn’t the only one thinking about it.

Sebastian had been checking him out all night.

Sebastian had almost kissed him twice, even when he was pissed as hell at him.

“Is that why you thought I manipulated you?” Beau asked before he could stop himself.

You’re the worst. The absolute fucking worst. You’re supposed to be flirting with the super-hot guy you haven’t been able to stop thinking about since he showed at camp, and instead, you’re bringing up that he hates you. A+ work, Beau. Really brilliant. You must be a genius.

At least, Beau thought as Sebastian continued to stare and swirl his drink, he hadn’t said any of that out loud.

Thank God for small miracles.

“Naw,” Sebastian finally said, another glimmer of a smile emerging on his handsome face. “You tried your level best not to flirt with me. It’s not your fault you trying to be all brilliant and professional about it made me hot.”

“No?” Beau squeaked.

Sebastian leaned in, and Beau could smell him again. Lavender and something darker and richer, and he wanted to lick up the neck that the open collar of his white button-down shirt had exposed and taste it, too. Wanted to trace the tattoo peeking out of his collar with his tongue.

Maybe he really shouldn’t have another drink.

Except . . . he could sleep with Sebastian. That wasn’t off-limits. But if they made it a habit, it would inevitably spill into the locker room, and then onto the field, and that was the one hard and fast rule his father had given him.

And he was going to want it to be a habit. They hadn’t even kissed, and Beau already knew it, as easy as breathing.

No, he should really keep his hands in his lap, and his drink un-drunk, but then Sebastian’s eyes practically sparkled with the dare of it and he leaned in another fraction of an inch.

“Don’t you want to know how hot it made me?” Sebastian crooned in that dirty, sexy voice of his, all low and enticing, and Beau lost the fight with himself.

He reached out and laid his hand on Sebastian’s thigh. His hard, muscular thigh, hot beneath the light wool of his slacks. He’d already removed his jacket, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing those rippling forearms that had taken up residence in too many of Beau’s fantasies already.

He swallowed hard. But didn’t move his hand either.

“I think you do,” Sebastian said lowly.

About the Author 

A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.

Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas.

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Restrained Desires by Kathrine McIntyre


Author Kathrine McIntyre and Other Worlds Ink host today's blog tour stop for romance, Restrained Desires! Find out more the fake partner romance and enter in the $10 Amazon gift card giveaway!

Restrained Desires

Katherine McIntyre has a new FF contemporary romance out: Restrained Desires.

One rule: don’t fall for your best friend’s straight sister. Especially not when she’s pretending to be your fake girlfriend.

Chelsea Moore is officially divorced from her asshole husband, and after wasting her early twenties putting up with his shit, she’s burning to get out there and play the field—especially a certain kinkier side he made her feel like garbage about.

Kyle Walker’s terrified to put herself out there. According to her mother, she doesn’t have the looks to hook anyone, but what makes it worse is that her dating history falls in line. However, when her family tries to claim she’s not really a lesbian, she tells them she’s bringing her girlfriend to Christmas. Only problem? She doesn’t have one.

In comes sexy, newly divorced, and straight Chelsea Moore to the rescue—her best friend Aubrey’s little sister. She’s doing Kyle a favor—like any friend would—except Kyle’s half in love with her from the moment they start hanging out. All too soon those lines begin to blur—lingering touches, flirting, kissing…. And when they connect on kink and begin hooking up, that’s when Kyle knows she’s screwed.

Chelsea might have Aubrey to protect her heart, but Kyle could lose both her best friend and the only woman who’s made her feel like she's worth more.

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Excerpt

Restrained Desires Meme

“So, care to explain how I ended up here?” Chelsea asked, leaning against the counter. “Everything got a bit hazy after I jumped onstage to do amateur burlesque.”

Kyle ducked her head, the blush lighting up her cheeks. “Yeah, no one managed to top your performance.” The tension in the air between them thickened, and Chelsea cocked her head in curiosity. Before she could ask anything, Kyle continued. “Then we all proceeded to drink. A lot. And when Aubs was ready to ship you home, you told her if you got in a car you’d hurl. Then you explained that we were having a sleepover, since I lived right up the street.”

Chelsea snorted. “Yeah, sounds about right. I’m sure my sister went apoplectic.”

“I got a stern talking to, but that was about it,” Kyle said, bringing the laden plates over to the small two-seater stationed in her kitchen. “And then I got you into the bed, and I took the couch.”

Christ, this woman. She’d never met someone as genuinely caring as Ky, and she wouldn’t again. Her brows drew together. “Wait, why’d you get the talking to?”

Kyle arched a brow, a blush spreading to her entire face. “Because we’re both single women, and she seemed to think I’d try to jump you in the middle of the night or convert you to the gay.”

“That ever-contagious gay.” Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Aubrey’s one to talk. Besides, I’d way rather wake up in bed next to you than half of the guys at the bar last night.”

Until the words escaped her mouth, she didn’t realize how suggestive they sounded. Right, that was going to go over great, flaunting herself in front of her sister’s best friend. Not like the woman wasn’t hot as fuck, especially all relaxed like this in her own environment. Kyle glanced away, letting out a slow breath. Chelsea’s heart sped a little faster, probably from the coffee kicking in.

“Better dive into breakfast before it gets cold,” Ky muttered, as if she wasn’t trying to divert the conversation. “Cold eggs just taste like scrambled rubber.”

Chels snagged a slice of bacon and began to chew, enjoying the salty flavors exploding on her tongue. When she added the buttered toast to the mix, she almost let out a groan. Breakfast might be simple to fix up, but this was cooked to perfection. The yolk of the sunny-side up eggs split, running across her plate, and she dipped the pieces of toast into it. The breakfast and coffee started to invigorate her, as if she wasn’t roadkill in the wake of bad decisions.

Still, she refused to count her divorce as one. Marrying Noah, yes, that had been a grievous error on her part, but leaving him had been her best choice, even if Dad had been disgruntled about the whole thing the past few months.

“Did you have fun last night?” Chelsea asked, curious to have some of the blanks filled in. The outing had been necessary, a chance for her to let loose and declare her freedom to the world. “Sorry if me crashing here vag-blocked you or anything.” She scratched her wild waves, more than aware she looked like a train wreck right now.

“Please. Me?” Ky responded, shaking her head. “Do I look like the type who’s bringing home girls every night? Maybe like the type who owns a thousand dogs, but I don’t play the field like that. I had a blast, mostly because you were so trashed it kept Aubs and Sky from trying to hook me up with any single lady they found at the bar.”

“What would be so bad about that?” Chelsea asked, taking a sip of her black coffee. She’d known Kyle for years but never got a chance to talk with her one-on-one like this.

“If we could skip past the awkward introductions where I say something horrifying, nothing. But I’m the least charming person in the tristate area, and I’ve scared more women away in the first five minutes than I can count.”

“No fucking way,” Chels said, shaking her head. She took a minute to wipe under her eyes, realizing her makeup probably streaked everywhere. “Sorry, I didn’t even look in the mirror. I probably look horrible.”

Kyle shook her head. “Nah, you’re gorgeous.” Her voice was so soft when she said those words in an earnest tone that made Chelsea melt.

“Wait, you’re telling me women walk away from this?” she asked, circling her finger around as she pointed at Kyle. “Between the genuine grin of yours that would make hardened criminals weak in the knees and the way you put the people around you at ease, you’re a freaking catch.”

“I’m going to hope the earth swallows me up in the next five seconds so I don’t die from embarrassment,” Kyle said, taking a bite from her bacon all while avoiding Chelsea’s eyes.

Kyle’s tendency to dodge compliments and downplay herself never struck her before, but while talking one-on-one like this, she noticed immediately.

Kyle swallowed her bacon and glanced back up. “Most women don’t seem to agree. Whenever I meet someone new, rational conversation escapes my brain, and I end up telling them they’ve got great sternocleidomastoid muscles or ask if free will is real or just an illusion.”

Chelsea pursed her lips. Disbelief coursed through her. How had no one found those questions charming? Everything about Kyle Walker was endearingly cute. Maybe her sister had the right idea after all. After Noah, the idea of hopping into bed with another guy made her gut roil.


Author Bio

Katherine McIntyre

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

Author Website: http://www.katherine-mcintyre.com

Author Facebook (Author Page): http://www.facebook.com/kmcintyreauthor

Author Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/pixierants

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Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6473654.Katherine_McIntyre

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Katherine-McIntyre/e/B00J8U4VNU

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