Showing posts with label Ballet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ballet. Show all posts

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Torn (En Pointe #1) by Mickie B. Ashling

Author Mickie B. Ashling and IndiGo Marketing share new contemporary menage release, Torn (En Pointe #1)! Discover more and enter in the giveaway courtesy of the author!
 

Title: Torn (En Pointe, Book One)

Series: En Pointe, Book One

Author: Mickie B. Ashling

Publisher: Self Published

Release Date: 3/22

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male/Female (Male/Male interaction)

Length: 67,867

Genre: Young Adult, Coming of age, family drama, questioning/bisexual protagonist, homophobia

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Synopsis

Kazimir Lebedez is a shocking anomaly in Russian politics. He’s an honest man who can’t be bought. Because he has no secrets. Until an extramarital love affair results in an illegitimate son he decides to hide in plain sight.

Raised by his adopted grandmother, Misha Vergara has dreamed of dancing ballet since he was a toddler. He exhibits the natural grace and drive to succeed in the competitive world of classical dance.

Natalya Baranova—Talia—is convinced that she and her bestie, Misha, are destined to be the preeminent ballet couple someday. They work diligently on their craft which ultimately leads them to the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg, Russia.

Henri Minas, a new arrival, has all the qualifications to become a principal dancer, with a face and personality that beguiles and confuses Misha.

Torn between his best friend and Henri, Misha must come to terms with his growing feelings for another boy. In a region of the world where same-sex relationships are forbidden, will Misha follow his heart and choose love with Henri, or stay true to Talia and their shared dream of fame?

To make matter’s worse, all of Kazimir’s carefully crafted lies are about to unravel, as the half brother Misha doesn't know sets his sights on Talia. Now a high-ranking member of the government, can Kaz protect his reputation, and more importantly, his precious love child, without losing it all?

Excerpt

Misha

A week later, my good intentions turned to shit.

The playful pas de deux between Alice and the Knave of Hearts was one of our favorite parts of the ballet. Unlike the original story, featuring a childish Alice, Christopher Wheeldon had crafted his masterpiece with a teenage Alice on the brink of her first romance. Talia was off her game during last night’s performance, so we decided an extra hour of practice was warranted. Thirty minutes in, I realized it wasn’t her technical skills that were subpar—it was the emotion. Even our principal yelled for her to stop.

“Talia, sweetheart. What is the problem?”

She blinked owlishly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all. Your balançoire was phenomenal, as are Misha’s lifts, but you’re projecting tragedy instead of happiness. I’m seeing Manon in her death throes instead of a young girl in love for the first time. Are you and Misha okay?”

“We’re fine,” I interjected.

Ignoring me, the principal prodded Talia, “Is he right?”

“Of course,” Talia assured him. “There’s no trouble between us.”

“Then you must be in pain. Was there an injury you haven’t reported?”

“No,” Talia replied. “Nothing hurts, I’m just tired.”

“Didn’t you get enough sleep last night?”

“I thought so.”

“Are you eating enough? You seem to have lost weight.”

“Stop interrogating me,” Talia insisted. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Then let’s take it from the top, and this time, I want to see your face light up with joy when Misha first approaches.”

Talia nodded.

“Tashinka,” he said in a kinder tone, “don’t make this more difficult than necessary. Show us how much you love your partner.”

“I’ve never tried to hide it.”

“Then you don’t even have to pretend. I expect heart-eyes all the way through.”

Our next attempt was much better. I was the only one who could tell Talia was still struggling to put her best foot forward, but we flirted on cue, and her arabesques had never been better. Even our demanding teacher let us go after one run.

“Get out of here and do something fun.”

An entire day to mess around was an unexpected bonus, and my first thought was escape. “How about a picnic at the Sosnovka?”

Her face lit up. “Are you serious?”

“It’s warm enough, according to my weather app. Let’s ask Henri to come along.”

“No.”

I froze. This would have been the perfect occasion to clear the air and mention I had feelings for both of them. “Why not? This way you can show him there are no hard feelings between you guys.”

She shook her head. “We’ve already talked about it, Misha. It’s just… we’re hardly ever alone.”

I wanted to protest, but I was fresh out of arguments. I’d have to tackle the problem on another occasion. “Okay, it’ll be like old times. You, me, and Mother Nature. Let’s stop at the deli for drinks and sandwiches.”

“Sounds great.” Talia perked up. “Meet me downstairs in ten minutes?”

“Okay.”

The sun was shining as predicted, and temperatures were still warm enough for shorts. Talia insisted we stop at the Garage Café for some iced coffees, and I didn’t object. Our attendant was familiar, but I couldn’t place her until she asked, “Where’s your friend?”

Then I remembered. The last time I was at her counter, was the afternoon I’d spent with Henri. She’d openly admired him, which was par for the course whenever he was around. He routinely stole my thunder without even trying. But it was impossible to resent him because one of his best attributes was humility. There were other dancers, far less attractive, who were legends in their own minds.

“Henri’s at practice.”

“What does he do?” she asked while she prepared our drinks.

“He’s a dancer like us.”

“At the Mariinsky?”

I nodded.

“Tell him I said hello.”

“Does he know you?”

“Remind him that I’m the barista who attended to him last time.”

“What’s your name?”

“Gala.”

“I’ll mention it when I see him later.”

She flushed. “Thanks.”

We decided to take the metro to save time, and once we were settled, Talia brought up the subject of the starstruck girl behind the counter. “When were you and Henri at the café?”

I threw out a date, hoping she wouldn’t ask for details. The last thing I needed right then was more drama. Confrontations were my least favorite thing in the world, and I never seemed to win an argument whenever it involved Talia.

“Henri must have made quite the impression on that poor girl.”

“He’s got a presence, to be sure.”

“Doesn’t she realize he’s gay?”

“You can’t tell he’s into guys at a glance.”

“Says you,” Talia scoffed. “Everyone and his mother knows he’s a poof.”

Here we go again… “Maybe she was struck dumb by his good looks,” I offered. “The guy is genetically blessed.”

Talia laughed. “He is a handsome devil.”

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

 

MICKIE B. ASHLING is the pseudonym of a multi-published author who resides in a suburb outside Chicago. She is a product of her upbringing in various cultures, having lived in Japan, the Philippines, Spain, and the Middle East. Fluent in three languages, she’s a citizen of the world and an interesting mixture of East and West.

Since 2009, Mickie has written several dozen novels in the LGBTQ+ genre—which have been translated into French, Italian, Spanish, and German. Some of her backlist is still “Under Construction” as she slowly transitions from traditional publishing to representing herself. Her goal is to have most of her novels back in the universe by the end of 2022. Audiobooks and foreign translations are still available at Amazon and Audible.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail | Instagram | BookBub

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Ballerino and The Biker (The Hedonist #1) by Rebecca James


Celebrate The Ballerino and The Biker (The Hedonist #1) with author Rebecca James and Vibrant Promotions! Learn more about the opposites attract romance today! Enter in the eBook back list giveaway!

The Ballerino and The Biker RDB Banner

The Ballerino and The Biker
Rebecca James
M/M Romance
Release Date: 03.10.18
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Cover Design: Reese Dante
Blurb
Most of his young life, Morgan Wentworth has dreamed of becoming a principal dancer in a prestigious corps de ballet. After years studying the art in Milan, Morgan comes home to New York City to apprentice with the Manhattan Ballet Company only to be hit by the unexpected death of his older brother, Jake. The grieving dancer learns his life is threatened by a dangerous rival motorcycle gang and that pierced, tattooed, HOT biker Zeke Ivers has been assigned by Jake’s MC to guard him. Saddled with the constant presence of the infuriating man, Morgan juggles the demands of an exhausting dance schedule as well as his new responsibilities as CEO of his family’s multi-million-dollar company. He never expects to develop an attraction for the straight, obnoxious biker, but that’s exactly what happens.
Estranged from an abusive family, Zeke Ivers has lived at the Sentinel’s club house and worked on cars since he was a teen. When fellow club member Jake Wentworth and a rival club president’s girl are killed on Jake’s bike, the Sentinel’s president delegates the protection of Jake’s little brother, Morgan, to Zeke. Zeke would do anything for the club that pulled him off the streets, but Morgan’s a ballet dancer, for Christ’s sake, as well as annoying as hell. Still, Zeke finds himself inexplicably drawn to the young man. The more attracted Zeke becomes to Morgan, the more the biker is forced to examine his sexuality and decide whether two people from opposite sides of the tracks could possibly have a future together, or if Zeke should do what is fast becoming too painful to consider: let Morgan go.
The Ballerino and The Biker Teaser 2

The Ballerino and The Biker Teaser 3

Excerpt
For another week after the shooting, I continued escorting Morgan to his long-ass rehearsals where he didn’t rehearse, just watched intensely, and his classes where he danced until he was slick with sweat and breathing hard. And I continued studying him, memorizing every expression that crossed his face. His high cheekbones, full lips, and expressive eyes captivated me, and I’d quit asking myself why. Scared I was letting him distract me too much, I renewed my efforts to watch the exits. I’d learned the face of every person who was supposed to be around and kept a watch for those who weren’t.


The list of people wanting me to fix their cars was growing, but I never had any time. Several of the guys offered to take a day or two watching Morgan for me, but I didn’t trust the kid in anyone else's care, and besides, there was my cover to consider. I was supposed to be a reporter doing a story on Morgan. Why would someone else show up in my place? Anyway, I knew the layout of the building, knew the corps de ballet’s schedule, and I knew Morgan. I would take care of him.

Saturday came around, and I once again thanked God the fucking masochist ballet company let the dancers have Sunday off. I planned to spend mine sleeping, unless Morgan got other ideas. The kid looked exhausted, so I doubted it. Halfway through the day, the big guy, chief of the ballet or something, announced some chick named Katie had had to leave and called Morgan in to dance her part during rehearsal. My gut twisted. How was the kid supposed to dance a part he’d only watched a few times, and a female part, at that?

But Morgan did it. He filled in for the girl like he’d been dancing the part himself every day since he got there, and I was in awe. I could tell the chief guy was impressed, too, or at least satisfied. I got the feeling he’d been testing Morgan, otherwise why the fuck hadn’t he asked one of the female apprentices to fill in? At the end of the night, like a proud daddy, I tossed Morgan a candy bar from the machine in the hall.

Morgan looked at the Hershey bar like he didn’t know what to do with it.

“For doing so great at the spur of the moment,” I told him. A smile lit up his tired face that made the embarrassing moment worth it, and he unwrapped the candy bar. He broke it down the middle and handed half to me.

“For putting up with all this,” Morgan said. Our eyes met. The whole thing felt so goddamn cheesy, I grumbled and didn’t speak again until we were pulling out of the Arts Center.

I hated the scared look Morgan had every time we walked outside the building since the shooting. I wanted to rip Spoons’s face off for putting it there, and I would if I got a chance.

“If it makes you feel any better, he ain’t gonna try the same thing twice,” I said to Morgan as he inched closer to me on the walk to the car.

He looked at me. “You mean he’ll devise another way to kill me?”


“Well, yeah.” We climbed in, and I headed for the Midtown Tunnel. I’d been changing up our route, even if it took longer to get home going a different way.

Morgan sank down in the seat and fiddled with the edge of his sweatshirt. “I can’t go on like this. I’m so fucking stressed out.”

“The way I see it, you ain’t got much choice,” I said. “You wanna be a dancer, so you gotta go to school. You wanna stay alive, so you gotta have me with you. Thing is, you gotta trust I’ll take care of you and relax.”

Morgan brought up his knees to his chin. He was like a fucking bendable toy. I bet he could put both feet behind his head. His face was broody.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid,” I said. “I got you. Concentrate on spinning around and looking pretty.”

Morgan groaned. “Shut up.”

I laughed, feeling suddenly light.





Rebecca James Logo
I've always loved to write and have written since I was a child, usually to entertain my family. I enjoy writing m/m romance because there's nothing hotter than two men in a loving relationship. I write contemporary romance but am not limited to that. I enjoy writing alpha/omega and vampire stories, and I wouldn't rule other things out. I'm very prolific, so look for a lot of things to come!


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