Showing posts with label Bodyguard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bodyguard. Show all posts

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Dark Secret (Darker Daddy Bodyguards #2) by Sue Brown


 

TITLE: Dark Secret

SERIES: Darker Daddy Bodyguards Book 2

Author : Sue Brown

RELEASE DATE: July 28, 2022

PRICE: $4.99

BUYLINKS:

Universal - https://readerlinks.com/l/2534945

Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/Dark-Secret-romance-Darker-Bodyguards-ebook/dp/B0B3592M4X

Series Link - https://readerlinks.com/l/2534946





BIO:

Sue Brown is a Londoner with a dream to live on a small island. Coffee fuels her addiction for writing romance with hot guys loving each other, and her Adorkadog snores in harmony as she creates.

Come over and talk to Sue at:

Newsletter: http://bit.ly/SueBrownNews

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/sue-brown

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/suebrownstories

Her website: http://www.suebrownstories.com/

Author group – Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/suebrownstories/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SueBrownsStories/

Email: sue@suebrownstories.com


BLURB:


He killed his father. Now he expects to die in the cave. Alone. No one knows where he is. No one cares. The only thing keeping him from falling apart is the sound of a heartbeat in the darkness, strong and there for him.

Paolo killed his father, the head of the ruthless Acierno Mafia family, and fled the family home. Now he’s been kidnapped and held hostage, but he doesn’t know who kidnapped him or why. All he knows is he expects to die, alone in a cave.

Tiger’s tired of doing protection detail for Z-list celebrities and stroppy teenage kids of politicians. He’s also exhausted, his dreams full of cold and pain and a faint heartbeat reaching out to him.

Then he’s offered an assignment by Nico Acierno, the Prince of Darkness, to find his missing twin brother. He doesn’t want to take the assignment, but he’d like to sleep again without these dreams.

Will Tiger find Paolo before it’s too late?

Book #2 in Sue Brown’s Darker Daddy Bodyguard series, a Mafia Daddy Romance.

TEASER/ Non Exclusive Excerpt


I killed my father with one shot. The second I raised the gun and fired at Don Giovanni, the head of the Seattle Mafia Acierno family, I signed my own death warrant. I thought I’d meet my end at the hands of the Prince of Darkness, my twin brother, Nico, even though I fired to save his life. Instead, I’m going to die alone in this cave. Left to starve to death, locked in a cage by a man who never speaks to me.

I have no idea why I’ve been kidnapped, no idea why I’ve been left for so long. I know no one cares enough to rescue me. Not even my twin. Especially not my twin. Not one person gives a damn if I live or die. No one knows my dark secret.

The only thing that’s kept me alive so far is the sound of a heartbeat, strong and sure in the darkness. It never falters, never fades away. I listen to its regular beat. Male, I’m sure of it. Strong. It keeps me alive.

Drip. Drip.

The sound of running water woke Paolo Acierno from his restless dreams. He spent most of his time asleep now. There was nothing else to do.

“Ow! Hell!” It was barely more than a cracked whisper. His throat was dry, his voice almost non-existent, after an eternity of being held in the cave.

It must have rained. Paolo leaned toward the stream of water that ran down the wall of the cave to capture some in his dry mouth. An increase in the flow of water was one of the few changes Paolo noticed. He wondered whether it was raining now. Before he’d been kidnapped, he barely glanced outside the window. Now it was one of the major things he thought about.

When it rained heavily the water puddled in his cage. Paolo hated that as he couldn’t get away from it. He sat in one corner of the cage which had been his prison since he woke up from a drugged stupor and discovered he had plunged into the hell of eternal darkness. His wrists were bound, and he couldn’t break the zip ties. The cage was large enough for him to stand and move around for a few paces, but that was it.

At first, he’d made sure he exercised regularly. The next time his kidnapper came near him, Paolo would be out of there. But the kidnapper was a pro and Paolo never found a chance to escape. Now he huddled in the corner and never bothered to try, his spirit broken. His wrists were raw from the zip ties and moving hurt like hell.

Paolo slaked his thirst with a few mouthfuls of water. The water had felt like a slow form of torture for a man used to bottled water. It was disgusting, earthy, and heavily laden with minerals. As Paolo was bound, he couldn’t move away from the constant drip. Now the water was the only thing keeping him alive. One day he would stop drinking and wait for death.

When he was first kidnapped, Paolo had dreamed about the rich dinners and excellent coffee he’d left behind. It all seemed a distant memory now. His whole life had narrowed down to this cage, the dripping water, and the strong heartbeat in his mind. Paolo had thought he was going mad, the da dum of the heartbeat in sharp contrast to the drip drip of the water. He’d thought it was his own heartbeat until he realized how strong it was. Then he’d wondered if it was Nico’s, but he and his twin had never had a psychic connection. Paolo spent hours listening to the heartbeat. It kept him sane. He laughed at the thought that a phantom heartbeat was the only thing keeping him tethered to his humanity.

Even after all this time, Paolo didn’t know where he was or who had kidnapped him. He knew it was one man who coughed and spat on the ground. At first, he’d visited every few days with food which Paolo crammed down his throat. Paolo had swiftly learned not to antagonize him, or he would be beaten. By now Paolo barely noticed how cold and hungry he was. He accepted the food to keep him alive. The days between the man’s visits grew longer, the food barely a few mouthfuls, the beatings harder. The man was angry about something.

They—whoever they were—were keeping him alive. He didn’t know why. But Paolo knew he didn’t have long left to live. If the cold didn’t get him, the lack of food would. He was weak and exhausted. He stank and soiling himself was inevitable. Every so often, the man would uncuff his wrists and force him to wash in ice-cold water and change into another cheap hoody and sweatpants. Once, Paolo would have attempted to kill the man. Now he wanted this to be all over.

He’d given up wanting to live ages ago, not that he had much idea of how long he’d been down here. There was no night. No day. He could only measure time in the visits of the kidnapper, the speed of the running water, and the heartbeat in the darkness.

Paolo tugged on his wrists, trying to break the bond. But what was the point? Even if he got his hands free, he would still be trapped in a cage. In a cave. There was nowhere for him to go.

If only he hadn’t killed his father. If only he’d let his father kill Nico as he’d intended, then he wouldn’t be down here, alone and starving to death in a cave. But while Paolo Acierno was a bastard to his brother, he would never have let another kill him, not even their father, the head of the Acierno family. Don Giovanni had made two mistakes. No, three. He’d underestimated Nico’s brutal bodyguard. He’d underestimated Nico’s desire for power. And he’d underestimated Paolo’s rage for just about anything.

Paolo laughed to himself in the darkness. It was his rage at the unfairness of it all that had kept him alive all these weeks. That, and the heartbeat of a man who didn’t know he existed.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

Who was the man who kept him from tumbling into the eternal darkness, who could exposed his dark secret?


 

GIVEAWAY


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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

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

The silver-fox and the faux bodyguard…

Sebastian

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.

Trent

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.

Excerpt

“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.

Purchase at Audible

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.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads Instagram | BookBub

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

Author Lane Hayes and IndiGo Marketing celebrate new release, The Real Baxter (The Baxter Chronicles #1)! Check out today's book info and enter in the giveaway courtesy of the author!

 

Title: The Real Baxter

Series: The Baxter Chronicles

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: March 4, 2022

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 99K

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

Add to Goodreads


Synopsis

The silver-fox and the faux bodyguard…

Sebastian

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.

Trent

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.

Excerpt

“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, <em>real </em>you and <em>real </em>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.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author


Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions and/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.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads Instagram | BookBub

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Finding Him (The Retreat #3) by L.M. Somerton

Author L.M. Somerton and Pride Publishing share new release info on Finding Him (The Retreat #3)! Read more about the latest in the series and enter in the First Romance giveaway!

 

Finding Him by LM Somerton

Word Count: 59,668
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 230

Genres:

BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description

Sometimes, using a safe word gets you exactly what you want.

Canadian Zac Denman is young, rich and submissive. He’s also a kidnap risk who’s grown up in the shadow of bodyguards and security precautions. All he wants is to work out what kind of submissive he is in a safe environment and thanks to his very understanding father, he’s getting the chance to do exactly that. The Retreat in England is safe, discreet and willing to provide a selection of Doms for Zac to play with—a great way of discovering what he is, and isn’t, into.

Dale Gastrell is a friend of The Retreat’s owner, a member of The Underground BDSM club and a soldier turned landscape gardener thanks to an inconvenient bullet. Two weeks providing covert protection to a wealthy client who won’t even know he’s there seems like a perfect break from city life.

But life is never simple, and when Dale and Zac are thrown together, Dale has to fight his attraction. Zac is from a whole different world of wealth and privilege. He’s not for the likes of Dale who has to watch as Doms arrive at The Retreat to give Zac a taste of submission.

Excerpt

Carey Hoffman stepped out of the air-conditioned limousine into the burning heat of a Palm Springs summer’s day. The air shimmered, and he half-expected to see a mirage in the distance along with a camel train and a bunch of wandering nomads. The sun’s intensity made the greenery around him all the more astounding. Extensive, manicured lawns stretched to either side of the sweeping drive and in front of him stood the biggest, most palatial house he’d ever seen. He could only imagine how much watering all that lush grass would need.

“It’s enormous.” Pure white, the sun reflecting off the building’s curved walls was blinding. Carey slipped on his sunglasses to reduce the combined glare of the sun and the paintwork. He couldn’t decide whether he liked the property or not. There was no doubt that it was extravagant and no question it was unique. “Probably designed by some celebrity architect for an extortionate fee,” Carey muttered. “It must be worth a small fortune.”

“I kind of like the smooth lines, it’s all curves, no harsh edges.” Alistair, Carey’s partner and submissive, joined him, slipping his hand into Carey’s. “It doesn’t come across as ostentatious as the McMansions you see in California. It’s understated, restrained somehow.”

“That’s your artistic eye at work, love. There’s way too much white for my liking. What’s wrong with a bit of color? Or at the very least a shade of white that isn’t…misty cloud or curdled milk or something. There are whole pages of so-called whites on paint charts, though they mostly look the same to me.”

Alistair gave him a gentle smile. “The heat’s getting to you, isn’t it, Sir?”

“How do people around here not combust? This place is like a furnace—I feel like I’m desiccating just standing here. What I wouldn’t give for a dose of London drizzle right now and that’s not something I ever thought I’d say.”

“We’re English. Our bodies are not equipped for more than two hot days a year—and by hot, I mean low eighties, not high nineties. Everything here seems to be air-conditioned to the point of frigidity, and I’m sure the house will be, too, once we get inside. You’ll be much happier then.”

“It’s entirely your fault we’re here, you know that? Now you’re a famous photographer, everyone wants a piece of you. Even multimillionaires. A personal invite from Taylor Denman is not to be sniffed at.” Carey gave Alistair a kiss to demonstrate his pride. “I’m so proud of you love, even if I am being fried alive.”

“Do you wish I’d turned down the invitation?” Alistair gazed at him anxiously. “I would have if you’d asked me to.”

“Absolutely not! Ignore me, sweetheart. The heat’s making me fractious. I’m very glad you accepted the invitation and I’m intrigued to meet Mr. Denman since he sponsored your exhibition in San Francisco. It was an enormous success. I’ve never seen so many sold stickers at a show before and it wouldn’t surprise me if he bought some of the pictures himself. You worked really hard to get everything set up, the launch was wonderful but exhausting. Mr. Denman’s offer to spend a few days at one of his hotels was a perfect way to end our trip so you could hardly turn down an invitation to meet him in person. It’s a small price to pay for an all-expenses paid stay in the best hotel in Palm Springs.”

They walked toward the house, glittering quartz gravel crunching beneath their shoes.

“I have to confess I’m a little nervous.” Alistair gripped Carey’s hand tighter.

“There’s no need to be. I’m here and I’ll take care of you.”

“You always do.” Alistair smiled, and Carey’s breath hitched. Alistair was beautiful, the sun glinting on his blond hair, his skin showing a hint of tan from several weeks in the sun.

“And I always will.” There was no doubt about that in Carey’s mind. Taking care of Alistair was the single most fulfilling part of his existence.

As they approached the huge front door of the property, it swung open. Carey expected to see a butler or maybe a personal assistant, but it was Taylor Denman himself who stood waiting for them. Carey recognized him from pictures he’d seen in the press. Taylor was casually dressed in jeans and a light blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned arms and the curl of a tattoo. He was a striking man, about Carey’s age, his chestnut hair starting to silver at the temples. A trace of stubble shaded his jaw, and there were laughter lines around his eyes.

“Welcome, gentlemen. I’m so glad you were able to make the trip from San Francisco.” Taylor stepped forward with a welcoming smile.

“Thank you for inviting us, Mr. Denman,” Alistair said. “We’re so happy to meet you.”

“Call me Taylor. You’re Alistair of course, I know you from your catalog picture, so this must be Carey.” He shook hands with Carey first, then with Alistair. “Come inside, it’s hotter than the surface of the fucking sun out here, excuse my language.”

Alistair giggled. “You and Carey are going to get along really well.”

“I thought it was only us rain-soaked Brits who couldn’t handle it,” Carey said, following Taylor into the icy-cool interior of his home. “I’m melting.”

“I was born in Canada. Alberta. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat, but my business interests make having a home here convenient. I keep an apartment in New York but I thought you’d appreciate a few days here in Palm Springs after the bustle of San Francisco. It’s a lot more relaxing than The Big Apple.”

“We certainly appreciate it,” Carey said, gazing around the entrance hall. “It’s rare that we get to spend a few days alone together, and the exhibition was a little frantic. Thanks to you it drew a lot of attention.” He was impressed by the cool colors and sleek minimalist design. The area managed to be welcoming even though the cathedral-like ceiling height could have made it intimidating.

His eye was drawn to a wall displaying a single large picture. Carey smiled. It was one of Alistair's photographs, blown up to huge proportions. The original was one of Carey’s favorites. It showed a vast, ancient oak, standing alone in a rural landscape at twilight, its gnarled limbs outlined against the sky. A silhouette of a fox was just visible at its base. Ironically, it hadn’t taken hours of patient waiting for an animal to appear. He and Alistair had driven out to the Chiltern hills one afternoon and had been taking a stroll after an early dinner at a nearby restaurant. Alistair, his photographer’s instinct always active, had lifted his camera and taken the snap after spotting movement. He hadn’t even known it was a fox until he’d looked at the digital image. It had been pure luck that the picture had come out so well. It had sold at a London gallery, but the buyer had remained anonymous.

Alistair edged a little closer to Carey’s side, blushing. “Now you know what happened to the picture,” Carey said with a chuckle.

“I was curious,” Alistair admitted. “Anonymous buyers are intriguing.

“The original is in my study,” Taylor said. “I had this print made specifically for this space, and you have no idea how many compliments it draws. I’m loath to praise your work in public, Alistair because it never fails to increase competition for the pictures I want to buy. I’m a covetous man—I want the best for myself.”

“I’m so flattered. The picture certainly suits this space. I’m glad it went to someone who appreciates it.”

“Well, I’ve added several more to my collection thanks to the San Francisco exhibition. Shameless self-interest got me involved and as sponsor I got first pick, which caused huge annoyance to several acquaintances. An added bonus, I admit.” He grinned, mischief glittering in his eyes. “But I have to confess that it’s not the reason I’ve invited you both here. I’m afraid I have been somewhat dishonest. Of course, I sponsored the exhibition for absolutely genuine reasons, but over the last year things have come to light that I think you may be able to help me with. A personal matter.”

“You have my attention,” Carey said. “Does this have something to do with Alistair’s photography skills?”

“No. Actually, Carey, it’s you that I think can help. Let’s go sit in the sun room. I have light snacks set out in there, and cold drinks. We can relax and you can hear me out.”

Carey exchanged a curious glance with Alastair who shrugged, apparently unconcerned by the mystery. They both followed Taylor through the house pausing to admire the pictures and sculptures that were displayed everywhere.

The sun room proved to be constructed entirely of glass but managed to remain ice-cold. Several comfortable loungers surrounded a low glass table and there was a magnificent view of the sweeping grounds. Carey guessed that the hint of glittering water in the distance must be a pool.

They settled into their seats, Carey and Alistair next to each other, Taylor opposite them. Taylor offered them a selection of drinks. Alistair opted for chilled mango juice while Carey accepted a light beer, mirroring Taylor’s choice. On the table sat several platters of cold finger food, which was tempting but Carey wanted to hear what Taylor had to say before switching his attention to snacks.

“How do I start?” Taylor leaned forward, steepling his fingers.

“I find it’s always best to be direct,” Carey said.

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About the Author

L.M. Somerton

Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.

You can follow Lucinda on Facebook, Twitter and her Website.

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Review: Crooked Shadows (Whitethorn Agency #2) by M.A. Grant

Everyone has secrets. Especially those who live in the shadows.

Cristian Slava doesn’t fear much. After he was betrayed by the man he called an uncle, leaving upstate New York for the Carpathian Mountains of his childhood is more a matter of practicality than fear. With him is Atlas Kinkaid, a former marine turned fierce bodyguard…and fierce lover, albeit a hell of a complicated one.

Cristian’s cunning is tested by the politics and intrigue of the vampire families of Romania, and the warm welcome he and Atlas were assured of quickly turns to ash as they race to unravel the mystery of an old friend’s disappearance. Searching for the missing vampire draws them into a web of betrayal and half-truths that reaches further than Cristian ever could have imagined, and they uncover a string of grisly murders that bear a striking similarity to the attack that changed Atlas’s life forever.

Stalked by the past and uncertain of the future, Cristian learns he does have something to fear after all…

Losing the man he loves.



Starting immediately after Rare Vigilance ends, our heroes Cristian and Atlas are on the run for their lives determined to find some answers about strange monstrous attacks that have made their way across the ocean to the United States. As they wend themselves throughout Cristian’s birthplace of Romania, the very place that still haunts Atlas’s nightmares from his military past, these two really truly need to get their shit together if they’re going to survive another day.

This time the story is told from Cristian’s POV, lending more insight to the enigmatic character who has seen and suffered much, who has maybe skirted/avoided his responsibilities a lot, but is now ready to do anything to help save himself, his lover, and his father’s empire. As other reviewers have said, this is more steeped in the mystery, trying to find who is hunting fellow vampires, investigating a friend’s mysterious disappearance, and avoiding the brutal machinations of a clan that won’t take no for an answer, all the while landing smack dab in the middle of a decades in the making power grab.

To say the least, this was atmospheric and dark, heavy with paranoia, as Grant further expands on the paranormal world she has created. There’s a very complex plot being woven here that is not quite finished, and the reader is lured by the growing bond between Cristian and Atlas (along with my utter disbelief that bodyguard Atlas’s only weapon is a small silver sword) amongst a compelling setup where enemies are a dime a dozen, true allies are a rarity if at all, and betrayal around every corner should always be expected.

Overall, an intense read with a very appreciated organic plausible growing romance. Some questions were answered, but be forewarned that this ends abruptly on one hell of a cliffhanger! The next book to come will indeed be a very long wait!



Release Blitz + Giveaway: Shiloh's Secret (Out in Austin #2) by KD Ellis


Author KD Ellis and Pride Publishing share new release information on romantic suspense, Shiloh's Secret (Out in Austin #2)! Read more about the bodyguard romance and enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!

Shiloh's Secret by KD Ellis

General Release Date: 16th November 2021

Word Count:  92,026
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 367
Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
CONTEMPORARY
CRIME
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MEN IN UNIFORM
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

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Book Description

Shiloh Beckett has a trust fund, a stalker and a secret. He doesn’t trust easily, but his new bodyguard might just break the cycle.

Shiloh Beckett might be the sole heir to Beckett Industries, one of the leading tech companies in the world, but the last thing he wants is to become another suit-and-tie. He’s learned the hard way that money can’t buy happiness, just a better brand of misery.

Gage Tucker lives by the motto Protect and Serve. Raised by a cop who failed his family, Gage chose to serve his country the only way he knew how—with boots on the ground and a gun in his hand. After a mission gone wrong, Gage came home with a broken body but the same drive to protect. Months of rehab later, he joined Eagle Security as a Personal Protection Officer and he’s been a bodyguard ever since. Protecting a trust-fund brat from the paparazzi isn’t what he signed up for.

Soon he learns that there’s more than just the media after Shiloh, and the secrets the boy is hiding will change everything. If he can’t convince Shiloh to trust him, how can he keep him safe?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, rape, reference to past child abuse, self-harm and suicidal ideation, and PTSD,. There are references to drug use, sex work, elements of BDSM—Daddy kink and power play—and parental neglect.

Excerpt

Shiloh hiked the hem of his baby-doll dress higher as he leaned his knee against the back of the chaise. He knew the drape of silk pooling in the hollow of his thighs barely left more than a teasing shadow to keep him modest.

Not that anyone in the frat house cared. He’d seen each of the Sigma boys naked at one point or another, while either on his knees or his back. In fact, the only man here he hadn’t seen naked yet was his bodyguard, a man who bought his muscles in a bottle of methyl-testosterone.

Brad sat in the armchair across from him. He was scanning the crowd of drunk college students stumbling from room to room, supposedly keeping an eye out for cameras. In reality, though, Shiloh caught the subtle glances toward the chaise, the way his gaze lingered on Shiloh’s exposed skin and the even-less-subtle looks into the corner, where a couple was doing lines on the glass side table.

Shiloh propped himself up on an elbow so he could see them. “Hey, Jorgie.” Shiloh feigned a slur. He’d been nursing the same glass of cheap whiskey since he’d arrived over an hour ago, though he’d skipped to the kitchen for a half-dozen refills for the sake of appearance. “Kiss you for a line.”

Jorgie, nearly as fabulous as Shiloh in a glittery pink tank and tight jeans, wiped his nose before grabbing the baggie. He stumbled over, his cheeks flushed, blue eyes nearly black as he leaned down. His lips were hot when they pressed against Shiloh’s.

Jorgie lost interest quickly, dropping the baggie on Shiloh’s lap as a girl Shiloh vaguely recognized stumbled past. Jorgie trailed after her, calling “Evie, those shoes!”

Shiloh popped the seal on the bag and turned it gently, letting the coke fall against the side. He shook out a crooked line on his thigh. By now, his bodyguard had given up all pretense of watching the room. Brad’s gaze locked on the powder.

Slowly, Shiloh ran a teasing finger over his skin to straighten the line. He admired the way it looked, even paler than his sun-starved flesh.

“I don’t mind sharing,” Shiloh said suddenly into the silence between them, and Brad dragged his gaze up to Shiloh’s. He wet his lips. He wanted it. That was obvious—wanted it even more than he wanted Shiloh. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

And that was all it took.

Shiloh was almost disappointed at how easy it was. Brad pushed his way to standing, stalking closer. Shiloh held himself still. Brad only loomed for a second before dropping heavily to his knees. There was the briefest hesitation then his bodyguard hunched over his thigh. He pressed one large finger against his left nostril, then the sound of sniffing made Shiloh wrinkle his nose in disgust.

He expected the man to sit back but Brad lingered, skimming his thumb over Shiloh’s thigh. It would be sexual in another circumstance—foreplay, a tease—but Shiloh knew he was just grabbing the last of the powder. Brad lifted his thumb to his mouth, rubbing it over his gums.

Brad’s brown eyes grew darker as the drug tightened its grip on him. Shiloh was on the clock now. He would be lucky if the drug stuck in the man’s system for a half-hour, with everything else in his veins.

Shiloh pushed Brad back then slid off the chaise and into the larger man’s lap in a single move. The thin lace of his panties was barely a barrier between them. He could feel the coarseness of his bodyguard’s jeans and, beneath them, the rigid hardness of his cock. Shiloh felt nothing as he rutted against it.

“I see how you watch me,” Shiloh mused, teasing one of the black buttons on the other man’s shirt between his fingers. “Are you finally going to do something about it?”

Brad groaned, clamping his hands down on Shiloh’s hips hard enough to bruise as he yanked Shiloh closer. He was grateful that years of ballet had left him with a flexibility most gymnasts would envy, because otherwise his hips would be screaming against the stretch.

Brad tangled his fingers painfully in Shiloh’s pink hair and yanked his head back. Shiloh turned his wince to a grin, then had to struggle to hold back a laugh as Brad growled—actually growled, like a wild animal instead of a man.

“C’mon, big guy,” Shiloh teased, grabbing Brad’s hand and yanking it free from his scalp, ignoring the painful way several strands of hair separated with it. “I’ll go find us a room. You go clean up, yeah?”

Brad blinked then shoved Shiloh off his lap in his haste to find a bathroom.

Shiloh smirked at his back. He hadn’t expected it to be difficult—seducing his bodyguards never was—but he’d thought it would be harder than that. Victor had lasted two months, and before him, Harry had made it almost four. Brad had only worked with him for one.

The cocaine helped, he supposed.

Shiloh slipped out of the party before Brad could come searching, not bothering to say his goodbyes to anyone else. Nobody there would notice he’d left until it was too late to stop him.

Shiloh dropped into the driver’s seat of his Bugatti and double-checked the backseat for his bag. Then he pulled off the manicured lawn and onto the street, leaving the townhouse behind him. He’d lived in Austin his whole life, except for brief vacations with his father as a child, so it wasn’t hard to find his way to one of the most exclusive clubs in the city.

He didn’t bother finding a parking spot. He grabbed his handbag and left his car on the street, throwing his keys to a man in a red velvet jacket standing on the sidewalk who, he realized as he strolled up the carpet toward the bouncer, had better have been a valet and not a man with poor fashion sense. At least Dad has good insurance.

The bouncer was moving the velvet rope for him before he reached it. “Mr. Beckett,” he rumbled, “always a pleasure.”

Shiloh fluttered his fingers in acknowledgment, paused for a handful of photos for the paparazzi loitering nearby, then sauntered into the club.

He headed straight to the dance floor. There was a VIP lounge on the second floor, but he didn’t come here to drink and schmooze. The strobing lights painted rainbows on his skin as he danced, his arms thrown carelessly into the air, rolling his hips, regardless of rhythm. He was a good dancer—more than good, great—but this wasn’t ballet, and he wasn’t performing. This was his attempt to briefly forget the real world and all the shit that came with it.

Three songs were all he allowed himself—three songs to be careless, three songs to lose himself in the bass and dance for nobody but him. Men groped his hips, ran teasing hands down his chest, even cupped his groin with grabby hands, but he didn’t care. He danced with a single-minded lack of focus.

And when his three songs were up, he dropped back into his body like an automobile crash, peeled himself away from the grabby hands and crossed the dance floor with the ease of practice. He’d been coming here for years before he was legal, and he knew the tricks like the back of his hand—the dip and sway to avoid getting tangled with dancers.

He took the stairs down to the lower bathrooms. The hallway was dimly lit, bodies little more than silhouettes shifting from shadow to shadow. More than one couple was pressed against the wall, their pants lowered to their knees as they copulated.

In these halls, he could be anyone, just another faceless stranger in a crowd. He ducked into one of the bathrooms—no one here cared about gender—and closed himself in a stall.

He stripped out of his couture dress, swapping it for a pair of knock-off jeans so tight that he might as well have not been wearing them and a white lace camisole with a stain near the hem. He replaced his Miu booties with pink All-Stars. Finally, he pulled out a pink wig and held it between his knees to keep it off the floor while he filled the bag with his discarded clothes. He spent a few seconds pulling his real hair up under a skull cap before he tugged on the wig. He couldn’t do much about his handbag. Hopefully people would assume it was a fake.

He stepped out of the stall and spent a few moments at the mirror readjusting the wig and touching up his makeup. He swapped his diamond eyebrow stud for sterling silver then stepped back, eyeing his reflection critically. He looked like himself, but…not. He looked like a knock-off of himself, which was exactly what he wanted.

He plastered on a grin and left the bathroom. The dance floor was even more crowded now. He merged into the sea of bodies, noticing several other wigs just like his. He grinned, enjoying the feel of anonymity as he started dancing again. Unlike earlier, though, this was a performance, every move just slightly off but geared to attract attention. He danced until sweat soaked his skin and thirst burned his throat.

He slid free of his current partner’s grip, ignoring the man’s groan as he headed for the bar. He pressed in tight between two men who were already waiting there, each brush of his body made to look accidental.

“Oops,” he yelled over the music as he bumped the man to his left with his hand. With the gold watch on his wrist, he looked like he could easily afford to buy Shiloh a drink—then an hour of his time as well.

“I’m Shiloh,” he introduced himself as the suited man looked down on him.

“Sure you are, and I’m Hugh Jackman.” The man laughed. It wasn’t cruel, but Shiloh feigned a pout. “What are you drinking, ‘Shiloh’?”

“Do they got an appletini?” Shiloh asked, playing up the wide-eyed, innocent look and poor grammar that a man like this would go for.

“Sure, sweetheart.” The man gestured to the bartender. Seconds later, a martini glass filled with the green cocktail appeared in front of Shiloh, complete with an umbrella.

“What’s your name?” Shiloh asked, stepping closer to be heard over the music, using it as an excuse to brush his hand over the other man’s hips. It was partly a tease, but also a subtle check. No gun or badge, at least not that he felt. He supposed a badge could be in the man’s wallet, but, short of pocketing that, he had no way to check.

Even a whore had to draw the lines somewhere—and he wasn’t a thief.

“Beckham.” The man leaned against the bar but didn’t try to escape Shiloh’s fingers. Shiloh removed them long enough to take a sip of his appletini. It was an indulgence he couldn’t allow himself often if he wanted to keep his figure. Then, he reached out and fiddled with a button on Beckham’s jacket.

“Just get off work?” he asked, peering up through his lashes.

“What gave it away?” Beckham drained the last of what looked like Scotch before abandoning the empty glass on the bar to give Shiloh his full attention.

“The suit. Are you a lawyer? You are, aren’t you?” Shiloh could tell a bespoke suit in one glance, and if Beckham’s didn’t cost at least a grand, he’d wear a pair of sweatpants out in public. Beckham lifted an eyebrow and Shiloh grinned. “I knew it. I knew you were a lawyer. Are you the kind that puts bad guys away? Or the kind that frees poor innocent people from behind bars?”

Beckham laughed. “Neither. I’m the kind who spends seventy hours a week cutting loopholes out of contracts—though I’ve been known to pick up a case or two to free up jail cells for the right price.”

Shiloh scrunched up his nose. “Gross. Well, you must be stressed after spending that many hours reading.” Shiloh shuddered like the thought made him physically ill. “How about we go back to your place and do something more fun? Tell you what… For a sexy man like you, I won’t even charge you full price.”

If the lawyer was surprised Shiloh was a professional, he didn’t show it. He just slid a handful of bills across to the bartender before putting his hand on Shiloh’s lower back, guiding him out of the club. A few paparazzi lifted their cameras as he exited, likely spotting the pink hair, before lowering them with a frown and a shake of their heads. He smothered his smile with a duck of his head, adding an extra sway to his hips for the hell of it.

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About the Author

KD Ellis

 KD Ellis is a professional cat wrangler by day, and an author by night. She moved from a small town to an even smaller village to live with her husband and wife and their two children. She loves reading—anything with men loving men. She writes queer romance in between working her two jobs and cuddling her pets—all six of them, which confuses the turtle.

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Notice: This competition ends on 30th November 2021 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. 

Guest Review: Hold Tight (Biker Daddy Bodyguards #4) by Sue Brown

Griff spends his evenings unofficially protecting the successful club owner, Jem Peacock, for the Biker Daddy Bodyguards. But Jem is a boy in need of a Daddy and Griff is desperate to take that job. He will wait patiently for Jem to trust him with the secret of his heart.

This young Daddy, all wiry muscle and compact strength, is not Jem’s type. But when Jem’s world implodes, Griff is the one by his side, guarding him, and offering Jem the chance to explore his little side. Jem has longed for a special kind of Daddy, one who loves a femme little. Is he too old to have his dream? Can he trust Griff with that secret?

To his fellow bodyguards, Jem is a client. To their community, Jem is a boy in need of a special Daddy. To Griff, Jem is a little to be treasured. Will Jem give him that chance?






Reviewer: Shee Reader


Griff has his eye on Jem. In every way that matters. Jem isn’t really interested, but circumstances might just put Jem in the way of the best thing that ever happened to him. The tension between these two men is confusing at first, but it soon becomes clear both men have been hurt badly. The beautiful crafting of Sue Brown’s words makes each man so very clear and real, that I hurt for them. Jem resists being honest about what he truly wants - even to himself and it is a matter of him learning to trust Griff to be really open about his deepest needs and desires.

The daddy kink in this book is cute and sexy, but also, more about needs being met. Jem needs to be a femme little, and Griff gives him a safe space to embrace his other self. This book is a joy, despite the fact that Jem is under threat and needs protection. The Biker Daddy Bodyguards from previous books in the series have little cameos here too.

Highly recommended.

I was given a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.



Guest Review: Rare Vigilance (Whitethorn Agency #1) by M.A. Grant

Everything has a price. Especially the truth.

From the author of Prince of Air and Darkness comes the first in a thrilling new paranormal series.

Former marine Atlas Kinkaid knows not to ask questions about the clients he protects at the behest of the elite Whitethorn security agency. Just like he doesn’t like anyone asking about his scars—scars left by a mysterious attack that haunts his every waking moment.

Consumed by the need to find out what happened to him, Atlas takes a job providing security to Cristian Slava, the indolent—and gorgeous—son of a notorious businessman. Cristian seems to be just another entitled client, but when nights at the club turn into secret meetings and people start going missing, Atlas realizes there’s more to Cristian—and to protecting him—than meets the eye.

But the same people who are after Cristian have something Atlas desperately craves: they know exactly what happened the fateful night he was attacked—and are willing to tell him everything…

For a price.



Reviewer: Free Dreamer

Now, neither the blurb, nor the cover give any hint that "Rare Vigilance" actually has vampires in it. I read a few reviews before starting the book, so I was prepared. We also have a traumatized MC suffering from PTSD and there's some violence going on, so beware.

I really enjoyed this book. The romance is very slow, just how I like it. For the most part there's just a vibe between the two, but nothing happens. They don't even talk about it for the most part. But still, you can feel the tension rising and when they eventually do act on it, it was totally worth the wait.

With the romance being so slow, there's plenty of other plot left. And that sure isn't slow. It's fast-paced action with some mystery elements. Like I said above, it does get violent, but it fit the story and wasn't over the top.

Cristian at first comes off as a typical rich brat, shallow and carefree and a bit of a jerk. But as the story progresses, his true character is slowly revealed and he becomes quite likeable.

Atlas was a bit stereotypical. Ex-military left with PTSD and scars hiding under a prickly exterior. But he does have his unique quirks and I liked him from the beginning.

The vampire part took a while to develop, just not as long as the romance. It could have done with a bit more worldbuilding, but seeing how much Atlas hates vampires at first, it makes sense he doesn't care all that much about their history and origins. And this is only part one of a new series, so I'm hoping for more details in the future books.

So, overall, "Rare Vigilance" was a really enjoyable, fast-paced paranormal action with a dash of romance. It's on the darker side and a bit violent and I'm very much looking forward to part two.

I received a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.



Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Way to a Man's Heart (Kingdom of Corazón #1) by Ann Marie James


Author Ann Marie James and Other Worlds Ink promote new Pride Publishing release, The Way to a Man's Heart (Kingdom of Corazón #1)! Find out more about the contemporary romance and enter in the Amazon gift card giveaway!

 
The Way to a Man's Heart - Ann Marie James

Ann Marie James has a new contemporary gay romance out: The Way to a Man's Heart. And there's a giveaway!

The heart wants what the heart wants…

Christian Diaz grew up as the best friend and unofficial bodyguard to the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Corazón. After an incident left him questioning his place in the castle, Christian joined the military and didn’t return for ten long years.

Now he’s been assigned to the castle as Royal Military Liaison to investigate the source of some recent threats against the crown. The annual Midsummer’s Ball is the perfect place for the anti-monarchy group to make their next move, so that’s where Christian will be too. If it gives him a chance to reconnect with his friends in the castle and make a play for the man he has compared all others to, it’s even better.

Max Ramirez is now the head chef for the castle. He started as a sous chef at age twenty when Christian was just an awkward teen. Now that Christian’s back at the castle, all grown up and interested in Max, the chef is determined not to let an opportunity with Christian pass him by.

When someone tries to sabotage the Midsummer’s Ball, Max and Christian need to work together to track down the people determined to make this event their last.

Warnings: This book contains mentions of drug use, obsession, references to parental abuse, drink spiking, violence, attempted rape, and attempted murder.

About the Series:

There’s evil brewing on the Island of Corazón. While the ruling monarchy is almost universally well loved, both at home and abroad, there are rumors of a group who believe the monarchy needs to be eliminated, by any means necessary.

Publisher | Amazon | First for Romance


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Excerpt

The Way to a Man's Heart banner - Ann Marie James

The royal family of the Kingdom of Corazón greeted their guests for the Midsummers Ball as Christian watched. He ran a hand down the front of his dress military uniform to straighten it while he waited for his turn to be announced. This was his first formal duty as the newly appointed Royal Military Liaison, and he needed to make sure he looked his best. He shifted his feet to find some relief for his ankle, which was still sore from him standing for a long time. His last mission had not gone to plan, and a broken ankle had been the result. Although the cast had come off a couple of weeks prior, it still wasn’t one hundred percent.

“Royal Military Liaison Lieutenant Diaz,” the herald announced. Christian caught the eye of Crown Prince Sebastian toward the end of the greeting line and his best friend’s eyes widened in surprise before his face lit up with happiness at seeing him. As the only child of the Castle Commander, Christian had grown up here, but he’d been in the service away from the castle for ten years. At thirty, Christian was the same age as Crown Prince Sebastian. They had been best friends from the time they had been in diapers, and even though Christian and the prince still got together when their schedules allowed, it wasn’t the same as seeing and being with him every day. Christian had missed him fiercely.

The royal children of the kingdom were usually paired with a young playmate from the age of about ten. Christian had started earlier than age ten as Sebastian’s companion, since he was always with him anyway. As Castle Commander, his father was the head of the guard slash castle security. He’d taken the companion idea a step further and trained Christian to be as good as he could be in martial arts and marksmanship. In his father’s eyes, Christian was to act as another line of defense for the Crown Prince. While Christian had not carried a gun—that was the role of the actual bodyguards—he was trained in case he ever had to use one.

With a nod to the herald, Christian stepped forward to greet the Queen of the Kingdom of Corazón. Queen Tania reached out both hands to Christian, and he clasped them and raised them to his lips while bowing over them. “My Queen… It is a pleasure to see you. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Lieutenant Diaz, it is a pleasure to see you as well. Ten years is way too long. We have missed you.”

“I apologize for the lengthy absence, Your Highness. I needed a change, but I am assigned here for the foreseeable future, so you will have time to get sick of me again.”

“So my husband has told me. I am excited to have you home, although in a different capacity as the Royal Military Liaison. I look forward to catching up.”

“As do I.”

The queen turned a stern eye on her eldest daughter, who was standing to her right. “Princess Zia, isn’t it wonderful that Christian will be back with us for a while?”

Christian tried to mask his sneer as his gaze went to Zia, who was not at all happy this evening. Of course, she wouldn’t be, since she wasn’t the center of attention. She wasn’t a very nice person and never had been. She was also part of the reason he’d left and joined the military. What she did… No, he wasn’t going to think about it. It was in the past. He was stronger and even more deadly now. It was time for him to face his demons. The military had finished the training his father had started, turning him into a true weapon. At twenty-eight, Christian had hoped Zia would have grown up and stopped being so self-absorbed, but the affliction seemed to have gotten worse instead of better in the time Christian had been away.

Christian gave Princess Zia a shallow bow. “Princess Zia.” That was all he could manage. He wasn’t going to lie and say he’d missed her.

Princess Zia tossed back her hair and gave him her haughtiest look. “Mr. Diaz.”

“It’s Lieutenant Diaz, actually, Your Highness.” Christian didn’t wait for her to respond, instead turning to greet the king of the Kingdom of Corazón. A striking man, even in his fifties, King Raul Hart exuded a sense of calm authority that Christian had always admired, making him seem larger than life. “King Raul.” Christian bowed low in front of the man. When he straightened, Christian was shocked to realize that he was now taller than the king. When they had met briefly the day before, the king had been busy on a phone call and had just waved him into his office and into a chair. Christian had experienced another surprise growth spurt after he had joined the military at age twenty and was now six-three, but he hadn’t realized that made him taller than the king.

“Hello again, Royal Military Liaison Lieutenant Diaz.” The king’s eyes twinkled at him as he ignored protocol and pulled Christian into a hug. “I didn’t get a chance to do that when we met yesterday. I wanted to correct that error.”

“Yes, sir.” Christian returned the hug before stepping back and offering him a crisp salute. “Lieutenant Diaz reporting for duty, sir.”

“As you were, Lieutenant. Now I think there’s someone here who can’t wait to greet you. It was hard keeping this a secret from him.”

“I know. I talked to him earlier, and I almost spilled the beans.”

Christian moved down the line and tried to keep a stern expression on his face as he saluted before grinning at one of his best friends. “Crown Prince.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were being assigned to the castle as Royal Military Liaison?”

“I thought you would like the surprise of it. It just happened a few days ago.” Christian once more ran a hand down the front of his military uniform. “First mission, the Midsummer’s Ball. It’s a very tough assignment.”


Author Bio

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Ann Marie James is fluent in two languages, English and sarcasm. She believes that you will never learn anything new if you don’t read as much as you can, and/or talk to every stranger you meet. She always looks for the best in people and to treat people the way she wants to be treated. Above all Ann Marie believes in love, whatever form it takes. Relationships are hard, love is the glue that keeps it together.

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