Release Blitz + Giveaway: A Little More Trust (Hot Property #1) by Pauley J Ray

 

Title:  A Little More Trust

Series: Hot Property, Book One

Author: Pauley J Ray

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 09/06/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84600

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, alpha males, blue-collar, businessman, home repair

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Description

Ethan Scott has everything he could possibly want: an amazing career, great friends, and more money than he’s ever dreamed of. Oh, and men. So many men. Yep, life is perfect, and he doesn’t ever see it changing.

Nate Sullivan has sworn off men. They can’t be trusted. Simple as that. After years of being lied to by the man he thought he loved, the very married man with a wife and kids, he’s promised to never give his heart away or get emotionally attached to anyone again.

Ethan thinks it’ll be a sure thing to get Nate into his bed, but when the sexy and frustrating decorator rebuffs him at every turn, he comes up with a new plan to tempt the man he can’t stop thinking about. A sex agreement. For the duration of Nate’s work contract, with no strings attached and definitely no hearts and roses or emotional fallout.

It sounds like the perfect deal. Nate gets to have the man he’s been craving since they first met before walking away, his heart intact. Ethan gets to have Nate in his bed, finally satisfying the itch he’s constantly trying to scratch. Problem is, Ethan’s still trying to extricate himself from his disastrous marriage and if there’s one thing Nate won’t touch, it’s a married man. When Nate finds out what Ethan’s been hiding, the betrayal of trust leaves him devastated.

Nate leaves, but Ethan’s determined not to let him go. Will Nate give him the chance to explain, or will he risk losing the only man he’s ever truly loved?

Excerpt

A Little More Trust
Pauley J Ray © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Ethan

Pouring the steaming coffee into my usual mug, I let the rich aroma fill my senses. God, I needed this. Taking a large gulp, I savored the strong taste as it hit my tongue, the heat burning my mouth and throat as I swallowed, I hoped like hell the caffeine would kick start my body after the late night I’d had.

I plopped myself down at the kitchen table to take the weight off my aching thigh muscles from last night’s activities when the front doorbell rang loudly in the quiet space. Who the hell was that—I glanced at the clock on the wall—at a quarter to nine on a Saturday morning?

The bell rang again so I pushed my seat back and dragged my ass up the stairs and down the first-floor hallway. Yanking the front door open to get rid of whoever had ruined my peaceful morning, I was about to give them an earful, but then I looked into his face and the words died on my lips.

The man standing on my doorstep must have been mid-twenties at the most. A few inches shorter than my own six two, he wore a blue baggy t-shirt a good couple of sizes too big, almost drowning his slim frame, and a pair of loose-fitting gray jeans and black sneakers. His angular face gave him a Scandinavian look, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. Sandy blond hair shone golden in the morning sun, short on the sides and long on top, swept away from his forehead and held in place with some product. My fingers itched to slide through the strands to see if they were as soft as they looked and a sudden image of my hand gripping tightly in his hair as I tilted his head to lick up his neck flashed through my mind.

Despite the tempting package he presented, I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his lips. Pink and full, they were begging to be kissed, and I had to bite down hard on my tongue to refrain from licking my own in readiness.

Well, hello, Blondie.

“Mister Scott?” his smooth, quiet voice asked, giving me goosebumps and pulling me from the trance I’d fallen into. Lifting my gaze to the palest green eyes I’d ever seen, I nodded at his question, my mouth suddenly unable to voice a coherent response. He shifted on his feet, “I’m, err, here about the painting quote.”

Damn, was that today?

He extended his hand out in front of him, and, giving myself a mental shake to wake the hell up, I reached for his and clasped his palm, my own larger hand encasing his. A shock of electricity shot up my arm catching me by surprise. The guy obviously felt the effect too as his eyes widened and he took in a short, sharp breath.

Interesting.

“Please, call me Ethan.” I held onto his warm hand a little longer than necessary before reluctantly releasing it and giving him a friendly smile.

The guy stiffened slightly and inclined his head. “I’m Nate.”

“Nate.” I savored his name on my tongue, rolling it around. “Please, come on inside.”

I stepped aside to let him enter, unable to resist the urge to lean in slightly and inhale his scent as he passed by me. Light and citrusy with a hint of soap. As he moved into the hallway, I gave him the once over and was disappointed to see his t-shirt covered his ass, obscuring my view.

Jesus. I had to stop perving on the guy. I deliberately pushed my hands into my sweatpants pockets to try to hide my growing erection and to subtly press my fingers against the head of my cock to give me some degree of control and hopefully, relief.

It didn’t.

Nate had stopped a few feet into the hallway, glancing around, assessing his surroundings, but he didn’t say anything and waited silently for me to take the lead.

“Come on,” I offered. “I’ll give you the tour, and we can talk about what I want.”

He paused for a second but then walked past me into the hallway, my eyes once more running over the baggy t-shirt and shapeless jeans he wore. I almost cursed out loud wondering what the body hiding underneath might look like, which was weird as this guy wasn’t my type at all, so why Nate intrigued me was puzzling.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t all over me like guys usually were? I inwardly scoffed at the notion of my ego being so fragile I couldn’t handle not being wanted and had something to prove. Not surprising with my upbringing but hell, I hoped I wasn’t that shallow.

Though there was something attractive about the way his calm demeanor pulled me in. With my hectic social life and full-on work schedule, I barely had a second in which to relax, but though I’d only met the guy five minutes ago, Nate slowed everything down and being in his presence made me calmer.

Mentally shaking my head, I tried to focus on the reason why Nate was here. To give me a quote to paint my house. So, concentrating on that, I proceeded to give him the grand tour.

I’d moved into the four-story Victorian townhouse just over a month ago, so had hardly any furniture cluttering the place, which made things easier to see and for Nate to get a feel for what needed to be done. With an open and airy first floor letting the light flood in and four bedrooms spread over the upper two floors, the place was far bigger than I needed, but as soon as the realtor had shown me around, I had to have it.

Taking the stairs down to the lower floor I led him past the dining room and into the huge open plan kitchen at the rear of the house with the French doors leading onto the garden.

I’d been watching Nate carefully as I’d given my tour. He still hadn’t said much, and his lack of communication was beginning to get to me, as was my inability to get a read on him, something I was usually extremely good at. But as we progressed and each room had been revealed, he’d relaxed a bit more as his obvious delight at the house and the possibility of getting his hands on such a historic building to paint had emerged.

Which I liked. A lot.

“You have a beautiful home, Mister Scott,” he said, his gentle voice filling the quiet surrounding us.

The words were the most he’d spoken since we’d begun the tour. I was extremely pleased at his compliment but, for some reason, refrained from saying so. Instead, shoving my hands back in my pockets, I rocked back and forth on my heels. “I like it, and as I stated earlier, please, call me Ethan.”

The corner of his lips curled up in the barest hint of a smile, making my heart beat a bit faster in my chest.

Pulling out a chair, he sat down at the whitewashed kitchen table and hooked his hands underneath his legs. “So, if you let me know what you’d like, I can put a quote together for you.”

I tried to resist, but, for some reason, the quiet man in front of me made me determined to get some sort of reaction, so I lowered my voice an octave and replied, “You want to know what I like?”

My flirty question had the desired effect as a full-on blush formed on his cheeks and his mouth dropped open.

God, he’s so cute.

“F-for the house.” He fidgeted in his seat. “What you’d like for the house.”

“Ah, okay.” Moving away from the counter and pulling out my own chair, I sat down opposite him, needing to get closer to this man who predictably leaned as far away in his seat as he could. “This is where I’ll need your help.” I rested my hands on the table. “I’m not good at this type of thing.”

I wasn’t clueless at all. In fact, I was damn good at painting, as my business partners and I had built a successful construction company from our humble beginnings with house renovations. And because of our success and the crazy number of hours I worked, it left me no time to paint my own home. Hence, the need to hire someone to do it for me.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Pauley J Ray has been making up stories in his head for as long as he can remember, and now gets to write those stories down in his own gay romantic fiction, involving sexy, complicated, and flawed characters searching for their happily ever after.

When not writing, he loves meeting up with friends and can’t wait to get outdoors with his husband, hiking, camping and traveling to new and exciting places as often as they can.

He feels extremely lucky to be able to sit at his laptop, all day, every day, creating the heartfelt, angsty and passionate romance books he himself loves to read.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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Release Blitz: Us Against the World (Roseden U #1) by Shayne Prescott

Author Shayne Prescott and Gay Book Promotions share debut novel info on new adult romance, Us Against the World (Roseden U #1)! Check it out!
 

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Us Against the World

Author: Shayne Prescott

Publisher: Self-Published - Spartakittah Press

Cover Artist: GetCovers.com

Release Date: February 1, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, sports, college

Themes: Bullying

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 65 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Betrayed by the only family he's ever known, Owen must decide: for love or team?

Blurb

Betrayed by the only family he's ever known, Owen must decide: for love or team?
 
For Roseden University frosh Theo Carter, the journey to his true self has been long and publicized. It seems most everyone on campus saw the TV series in which he was transitioning, and some feel very strongly he doesn't belong at the prestigious all-male school. Struggling with classes and bullying, junior Owen Lewis swoops in like his own personal savior.  But as the heat rises between the two, so too does the torment from some of the school's lacrosse team.
 
As a product of the foster care system, Owen knows all about not being wanted.  That's why his lacrosse teammates are so important to him — they've become the closest thing he's found to a real family.  Being bounced around constantly between different homes with just a plastic bag of his possessions taught Owen there was no such thing as love. But if that's true, why does Theo feel like a home he's never known? Owen is convinced that nothing will stop him from protecting Theo — but what if the choice is between his found family and his first love?
 
When all seems lost, both have choices to make. Will they choose each other?
 
Us Against the World is a 65 000-word HEA set at the fictional Roseden University, in Roseden, Pennsylvania. It is the first in the series of Roseden U books, and contains some derogatory language (LGBTQIA+)

Excerpt 

 “Hi! Do you need help finding your books?” My books, my brain, my capacity to speak…

 “Y-yes.” My tongue tangled like when I was a kid, when I’d had a mouth full of Gobstoppers and couldn’t manage any words. I bet I looked really intelligent.

 Owen grinned at me, either oblivious or nonplussed by my brainless moments. “Do you have your class schedule? I’ll need that to find your books.”

 “Sure do,” I confirmed. I handed him my class list and he looked it over, nodding quietly to himself before suddenly grinning even wider at me.

 “You’re in my Spanish class. But I don’t remember seeing you in the fall semester?”

 “I took the fall semester online, back home in New Hampshire.” Before he could ask why — I could see the curiosity on his chiseled face — I explained. “I had surgery early in the year; it made more sense to be home, rather than recovering here.” Smooth, Theo, so smooth. Why don’t you tell him about the time you tripped and skinned both knees while you’re at it?

 Owen nodded. “I totally get that. So since you’ve got Spanish covered, it’ll just be the other four classes?”

 “Yeah. Take all my money,” I groused, and he laughed, which made my stomach do a little flip-flop. I fought the urge to groan. I needed to get over myself. I didn’t know this guy, and despite him looking damn good, I shouldn’t have been swooning.

 Owen went off to search the stacks for the books, while I decided to pick up some more highlighters. I’d brought some from home, but given the current state of my Spanish book, it would take me no time at all before those were dried up and in need of replacements. Finding a five-pack of assorted colors, I made a happy little noise and snatched them up, coming back to the book section just as Owen approached with a thick stack of books.

 “Oh God. How am I going to get all of those back to my dorm?” Yes, Theo, complain to the handsome man about your own ineptitude.

 Owen peeked around the books to peer down at me. “You didn’t bring a backpack?” I shook my head morosely. “Two options. You can either buy a Roseden one, or if you’ve got one back in your room, I can set the books aside while you go grab it.”

 “Can you really set them aside?” Owen nodded. “Okay, thanks! I’ll get back here as fast as I can.”

 “Don’t rush,” Owen assured me with a dazzling smile. “It’s been slow. More professors are going for online textbooks instead of the physical ones.”

 I hazarded a glance at my stack. “Not mine, it seems.” Owen winked at me and my stomach fluttered again. I started towards the door, then remembered the highlighters in my hand. Turning, I placed them beside my texts. “I’ll pay for those, too, when I come back.” Owen gave me a friendly wave, and then I was off, back to Tucker Hall.

About the Author 

Shayne Prescott has been putting together books since his medium was scraps of paper and pencil nubs. A children’s book was considered for publication while in middle school, and his short stories were often a favorite of his beloved English teacher, Mrs. Mazzacarro. Still, he writes.

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Review: The Young Man's Guide to Love and Loyalty (Magic Emporium) by Clara Merrick

Loyalty is Lieutenant Owain Morgan’s watchword—loyalty to England’s Queen Elizabeth XII, to her daughter the Princess of Wales, and to the Royal Navy in which he serves. When his loyalty leads him into danger, an unseen something—or someone—lends a helping hand. Is he imagining it? Could it be a guardian angel? Or is it someone—or something—else?

Enter the intriguing Benjamin Fletcher. Owain knows that sharing a drink and a steamy afternoon together doesn’t have to mean anything, but Benjamin’s quiet charm works its way into his heart…. Until Benjamin turns up in the Earl of Essex’s retinue, that same Earl who, rumor says, is angling to marry the Princess of Wales and make her power his own.

Every encounter with Benjamin binds Owain’s heart more tightly to this enigmatic man yet tests his loyalty to Queen and Country. Will Owain be forced to choose between love and loyalty?

The Young Man’s Guide to Love and Loyalty is part of the Magic Emporium Series. Each book stands alone, but each one features an appearance by Marden’s Magic Emporium, a shop that can appear anywhere, but only once and only when someone’s in dire need. This alternate history contains princesses, palaces, steam trains, fumbling lovers, and a guaranteed HEA.

This was an interesting take on European history retold in an alternate universe, all entwined with magic and the land of fairy.

Owain is a straight laced English naval officer, and when his captain confiscates much needed Spanish silver for the crown, he’s tasked with reporting the valuable intel to his command in London. Once he starts on his journey, strange happenings abound, and Owain soon finds himself in over his head.

Soon, Owain is embroiled into also aiding the royal princess unravel a possible conspiracy to overthrow the throne, and his eyes are slowly opened to the world around him. Things aren’t black and white, and treachery lurks around every corner. What also lurks is Ben, the mysterious man whom Owain had a blissful one night stand with, and it remains to be seen if Ben is a friend or a foe. Regardless, Owain can’t stop thinking about him and only hopes he’s on the right side.

For someone who is not very knowledgeable about European history, I felt this was an engaging spin on it. The concepts were smart and the variations were refreshing especially where women were often in traditionally male leadership roles of the highest order. There’s a lot going on in this which kept the pace fast, but in and amongst missions and investigations, the romantic development was not fully realized enough for me (though what we got was nicely smexy), nor was the mystery in its conclusion (I’m still scratching my head a bit).

This looks to be the debut of Clara Merrick, and it contains a great premise. This ends with a solid HFN and as with many of the stories in this loosely connected series, there’s plenty of wiggle room for sequels galore and this is definitely one of them. Overall, I’m confident that fans of historical romance will surely have a good time! Enjoy!

Release Blitz: Finding His Boy (Safe Harbor #1) by K.D. Ryan

Welcome author K.D. Ryan and Gay Book Promotions as they host today's blitz for debut daddy kink novel, Finding His Boy (Safe Harbor #1)!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Finding His Boy (An MM Age Gap Daddy Romance)

Author: K. D. Ryan

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: K. D. Ryan 

Release Date:  March 25, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance 

Tropes: Age Gap, Slow Burn, Daddy Kink

Themes: Self-confidence, Trust, Exploring Sexuality 

Heat Rating:  5 flames

Length:  96 000 words

It is the first book in the series - Safe Harbor #1

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Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK   |   Amazon AUS 

A lonely Daddy. An innocent boy. A twenty-year age gap. Whatever happens next is in Daddy’s hands. 

Blurb

Finding his way in life all on his own hadn’t been easy for eighteen-year-old Elliot Hedrick, but he’d managed to hold it all together so far. 

Even though it was just by the skin of his teeth. 

Between his warehouse job and pursuing a career as a professional ballet dancer, he’d been working sixteen-hour days and was still barely making ends meet. 

He was fraying at the seams. And he was so damn lonely.

There was nobody for him to lean on, nobody to come to his rescue when things fell apart—it was all up to him to achieve his dreams.

Then suddenly Grant Weston charged into Elliot’s life, his knight in shining armor—literally and figuratively—and despite their twenty-year age gap, Grant couldn’t seem to leave the boy alone. Even though Grant knew he should.

There were too many obstacles between them—and not just their ages. Grant had secrets of his own, ghosts from his past that made him hold back from taking what he really wanted from Elliot. 

And what Grant wanted was to make Elliot his boy. 

To have a true partner.

But Grant was afraid to trust himself—afraid that history would repeat itself and leave him with a broken heart yet again.

 Is age really just a number, or will the years between them end their relationship before it can even start? 

Finding His Boy is the first book in a duet taking place in the Safe Harbor universe but can be read as a stand-alone and has an HFN ending. This book is a 90+K word slow burn, steamy romance that features a Daddy/boy relationship between two consenting adult men. No age play. Dual POV. There are explicit descriptions of sexual acts, so this book is intened for a mature audience (18+). 

Trigger Warning: On-page physical assault (not between MCs), mention of sexual assault. 

Excerpt 

Grant knew he should pull back, he should close the door—that would be the smart thing to do. He should be respectful of Elliot’s privacy. 

Because if he crossed this line, there would be no going back—all of his noble rationalizing about not taking advantage of Elliot’s vulnerability would be out the window. 

But fuck, the boy was incredibly gorgeous—the planes of his slim muscular body highlighted in a soft blue glow from the moon, his face a study in shadow and light. He looked so young, so vulnerable, and so ripe for the taking. Exposed, ready for Grant to sink his teeth into the pale expanse of flesh on display, to mark Elliot as his. 

If Grant stepped further into the room now—and he wanted to, oh he’d never wanted anything so badly in his life, he could taste the wanting like metal on his tongue—where would that choice bring them? 

Because the boy had no clue what Grant wanted to do to him. 

He couldn’t know how Grant wanted to use him. To flay him wide open with word and action and touch, and pick apart the soft tender insides of him, to leave him wanting and vulnerable and his. To deliver the safety and comfort and pleasure that his boy craved and that only he—Grant—could give.

Grant’s own possession. 

His boy. 

Those words—his boy—they acted like a bucket of cold water—a wave of uncertainty and apprehension to temporarily subdue his lust. Was this just history repeating itself? Would Elliot realize a year down the line that Grant couldn’t give him what he wanted, and Grant would be left high and dry once again? 

Could Grant risk his heart like that again? The thought of sharing that experience with someone, only for his heart to be trampled, handled carelessly, and discarded…  

He should leave now, back out and pretend he’d never been here. Just leave and act like nothing had changed the next day. Leave this beautiful boy whole and innocent and let someone else break him in gently, softly, like he deserved. Someone he could grow with, change with, learn with. 

Fuck, he was a coward. 

But then. 

But then Elliot opened his eyes. And he parted his lips. And he kept on pumping his hand up and down as he locked his eyes with Grant’s, his heated gaze burning with open desire. 

Desire for Grant. 

And Grant knew he couldn’t walk away.

About the Author 

Just a dreamer fueled by coffee who’s been writing about love that comes in all forms since she got her first word processor. Passionate bibliophile and lover of science, caretaker of humans and friend to dogs. 

Social Media Links

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Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Splinters of the Heart By Alyssa Rabil

Author Alyssa Rabil and Pride Publishing host today's blitz for Splinters of the Heart! Read more about the contemporary romance and enter in the giveaway for a chance to win a fabulous gift package and get a First For Romance Gift Card!

Splinters of the Heart  

Alyssa Rabil

General Release Date: 16th March 2021

Word Count:  83,220
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 349

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
GAY
GLBTQI
ROMANCE

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Book Description

 Love finds a way.

Aaron Beaumont is a mess. Life has never been easy, so why did he think bondage would help? While he solved the problem of making some quick money, it came at a price he wasn’t willing to pay. To his great relief, he’s rescued by Silas Anderson. Silas, a doctor, takes him home and treats his physical injuries, but his gentle touch and reassurance can’t touch Aaron’s internal turmoil.

When Aaron tries to return home the next morning, the worst has come to pass. He suddenly finds himself with nowhere to go. Once again, his world collides with Silas’.

With the future uncertain, a friendship blossoms into something neither Aaron nor Silas has experienced before, and they know it’s something they may never experience again.

However, happiness is just out of reach, and before they have a happily ever after, they must face a demon from the past.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of verbal and physical abuse, consensual pain, parental abuse, drug use, homophobic language, mentions of anxiety, suicide and drug dealing.

Excerpt

Aaron sat on the edge of the bed with his hands in his lap. The man behind the camera clicked something and a red light blinked to life.

“Shy?” asked the man.

“Cold,” answered Aaron.

“Shy plays better for the camera,” said the man. “But I can also work with stubborn denial.” There was that smirk again. “Introduce yourself.”

“Aaron. Do you need my last name?”

The man rolled his eyes. “No. And you’ve ruined the take.” He took a breath. “Introduce yourself.”

“Aaron.”

“Good boy. I’m Farley. Your Dom will be in shortly. You will call him ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’.”

“Okay.” Aaron shifted on the bed. He wanted to move his hands—make a point and prove he wasn’t afraid—but that would probably just earn more snide comments from Farley. He didn’t like being the only one naked. Then again, he wasn’t sure how much better it would be once the other naked guy joined them.

Will he be naked? Aaron wondered. Please be naked. Or don’t. Maybe he won’t show up.

It wasn’t too late to run. He hadn’t signed a contract or anything. The money was still in a bag in the corner of the room. He could bail at any time.

“Why are you here?” asked Farley. He nodded to the camera.

Aaron wasn’t sure where to look. He settled on Farley, who rolled his eyes. “I need the money,” he answered.

“Is this your first time doing porn?”

“Yeah.” Aaron glanced at the camera. “I mean—I’ve been filmed before, but—”

“Shut up.” Farley held a marker up to the lens. “I’ll cut that out later. Don’t elaborate.”

Aaron sighed. He could leave, drive home as fast as possible, take a long hot shower and forget this ever happened.

“Are you gay?”

“No,” answered Aaron.

“Then what brought you here?” asked Farley.

“Money,” answered Aaron.

Farley held another marker up to the lens. “Is it even remotely possible for you to look less like an angry mountain gorilla and more like a virginal twink?” he asked. “I understand your IQ may only extend to that of a mountain gorilla, but surely you can follow basic instructions.”

Aaron glared. “What’s a twink?”

“Christ,” said Farley. “Fine. Never mind.” He paused again. “Why do you need the money?”

“Uh—” began Aaron. “It’s—that’s personal.”

“Girlfriend?” asked Farley.

“No,” answered Aaron.

“Just say it’s for your girlfriend.”

“It’s for my girlfriend.”

Farley rolled his eyes. “Ever sucked a cock before, Aaron?”

“No.”

“Ever thought about sucking a cock before?”

Aaron glanced between Farley and the camera. “Yes.”

“Tell me about that.”

“It—it was a long time ago.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I got curious back in high school,” answered Aaron. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Man of few words,” said Farley. “That’s fine. You won’t need to do much talking today. Ever thought about having a cock in your ass?”

“I guess.”

“Any idea what you’re in for?”

“I googled some stuff.” Aaron had spent the entire week leading up to today scouring the internet for advice. He’d taken seven showers in the past three days and hadn’t eaten for two days. He’d told himself he was just being thorough—that it wasn’t because he’d lost his appetite or because he’d felt dirty after hanging up the phone to confirm the meeting. He’d told himself it was just sex. Men liked sex. Sex wasn’t a big deal.

Farley pulled a sheet of paper from the desk behind him. “Do you know what makes my business such a special production company?”

“Your warm and fuzzy personality?”

Farley grinned as he looked down. “Authenticity,” he said. “Everything is consensual, of course. Men like you come in for whatever reason—overcompensating for their nerves with masculine bravado—but they don’t leave until all parties have been thoroughly satisfied.”

“Yeah, you need a money shot,” said Aaron. “You said that in the email.” He’d found these guys online. The ad had been vague, but had promised a shitload of money for two hours’ worth of work. Aaron had emailed them, called them, then showed up in person. Farley had even flashed him the money before Aaron took his clothes off. It wasn’t a high-class setup by any means, but it was about what he’d expected from a vague ‘call for adult actors’. He probably should have told someone where he was in case things went south—but then someone would know he was here doing this.

“No fake orgasms,” continued Farley. “Our audience likes to know what you’re feeling is real.”

“Okay,” said Aaron.

“Your safe word for this Dom is ‘grace’. Use it wisely. If things are not going well, I’ll switch out for someone I think will be more successful.”

Aaron nodded. He felt a little nauseated and closed his eyes for a moment.

“You read my mind,” said Farley. He crossed the room and tossed Aaron a piece of fabric. “Tie that tight over your eyes, and no peeking.”

Aaron bit his lip, but did as he was told. “Like this?” Suddenly something soft hit him in the face. “What the hell?” he shouted. He fumbled with what felt suspiciously like a pillow and threw it away from him.

“Just making sure you can’t see.”

“Dammit,” muttered Aaron. He heard the door open. He heard Farley return to his position by the camera and heard another set of footsteps approach the bed.

It’s not too late. Fuck this and go home. No one has to know I was here. I can find the money somewhere else.

“Hello, Aaron,” said a deep voice. A firm, calloused hand ran through his hair. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” asked the man—Master.

“No,” breathed Aaron.

Farley coughed.

“No, Sir,” corrected Aaron. He could feel his body shaking, but he told himself he was just playing along. Farley had told him to be a virginal twig or twing or something. He was acting. He wasn’t scared.

Master thumbed over Aaron’s lips. “Open your mouth,” he said. Aaron obeyed.

Master nudged his leg between Aaron’s knees, forcing his legs open. “Hands behind your back,” he said.

Again, he obeyed.

Run. It’s not worth it. Sell a kidney. Sell sperm to a rich lady. Learn to juggle and join a circus.

Something warm and wet touched Aaron’s lips and he jumped. Master ran his fingers through Aaron’s hair again, and pulled him back. A kiss. The Dom was kissing him. He trailed a line of kisses to Aaron’s ear.

“Are you all right?” whispered the Dom.

Aaron leaned his face away from Farley and the camera. “Yeah,” he answered. “Sorry.”

Nerves.”

“Let me know when you feel uncomfortable,” he whispered. He nibbled at Aaron’s neck.

“Safe word is ‘grace’, right?” asked Aaron.

“Right.” Master kissed Aaron again and breathed against his lips. “I promise, I won’t hurt you.” He stood up, fingers once again entangled in Aaron’s hair. “Open wide,” he said.

Aaron did as he was told, and this time he was about ninety percent sure the thing he tasted was a dick. A quick thrust from the Dom confirmed his suspicions. Master was slow at first, keeping his movements steady and shallow. One hand had a vise-like grip on Aaron’s hair while the other caressed his cheek.

Considering the many awful ways this decision could come back to destroy him, Aaron was surprisingly relaxed.

Suck him off. Then you get off. Then you go home. It’s not that bad. Just an hour and a half more to go.

Suddenly, Farley snapped something. “Cut,” he said.

Master pulled away from Aaron. “What could possibly be the problem? You’ve been rolling for under a minute.”

“His sad little deflated cock is the problem,” said Farley. “No one wants to see that.”

“Give him some time,” said the Dom. “He’s nervous.”

“Sorry,” said Aaron, sensing his paycheck might be on the line. “I can get hard.” He gripped his dick in his hand and gave it his best shot.

They’re watching me. Get hard. Get off. Get paid. Get out. Get the money to Daniel.

Aaron felt nauseous again. If his little brother had any idea where this money was coming from, he’d probably never speak to Aaron again.

If Dad knew—

If Robert Beaumont knew, he’d make sure Aaron never saw Daniel again. “This is pathetic,” said Farley.

“Let me try,” said the Dom. “Aaron, lie on your back.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Farley.

“This is a lot to take in,” said Master. “We need to ease him into it.”

“I don’t want to waste your time,” said Aaron. “I can do this.”

“And yet here you are, wasting my time,” said Farley. He sighed. “Silas, give us a moment, won’t you?”

“No. We can figure— Who are you calling?” asked Master.

Farley must have picked up the phone. He shushed the Dom. “Send in Regina. She has the edging equipment. Tell her we need Ralph.”

“This isn’t an edging scene,” said Master.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” said Farley. “Regina knows what she’s doing. Now get out.”

Master ran his fingers through Aaron’s hair again. It was pleasant, but it didn’t stop Aaron from trembling.

“I can do this,” mumbled Aaron.

Master untied Aaron’s blindfold and knelt down between his knees. He placed a hand on Aaron’s thigh and rubbed small circles into the muscles with his thumbs. Master was also naked. He had dark, messy hair. His eyes were icy blue and beautiful. He was beautiful.

“This line of work isn’t for everyone,” said Master. “There is no shame in leaving if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No,” said Aaron. “I can do it.”

“For God’s sake,” said Farley, “get up. I should have paired him with Ralph in the first place.”

“Don’t put him with Ralph. He’s too rough,” said the Dom.

Farley rolled his eyes. “You can’t fall for some doe-eyed little virgin.”

“I told you we shouldn’t work with amateurs,” said Master. “It’s too risky.”

Farley muttered something that sounded like ‘savior complex’ and put his phone into his pocket. “New rule,” he said. “Every time you hold up a scene to have a little heart-to-heart with the actors, I’m taking a nickel from your paycheck.”

“That’s not fair,” said Aaron.

“Ignore him,” said the Dom. “He has to be petty to stay alive, the same way a shark must keep swimming.”

The door opened. A woman entered carrying a large duffle bag. A tall man with a scruffy beard followed her.

“The cavalry has arrived,” said Farley. “Silas, leave.”

“No, I—”

“You want to cost this young man his money?” asked Farley. “He needs someone more forceful.”

“Then why partner him with me in the first place?” asked Master.

“I was being kind,” snapped Farley.

Master turned back to Aaron. He looked scared. “You can still say no.”

“Leave now, or you’re fired,” said Farley.

“Go,” said Aaron. “I’ve got this.” He tried to force a smile. Master searched his eyes.

“How about this,” said Farley. “You can stay and slow down production and make sure we don’t hurt this precious boy, and I’ll just cut his pay in half and you won’t get paid at all for today.”

“No,” said Aaron quickly. He shoved the Dom away. “Leave. I know what I’m doing.”

Master got to his feet and stepped back.

“Go,” said Aaron. No contract. No witnesses. Of course these guys could cut his pay. He wasn’t exactly a member of the amateur porn worker’s union.

Master clenched his jaw. He turned, jabbed a finger at the new man in the room and whispered something.

The man ignored him. Master left, slamming the door behind him.

“Lock it,” said Farley. He turned to Aaron. “Sorry about all that. You weren’t what I expected. Normally a two-hour shoot only takes two hours.”

Aaron glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s only been forty-five minutes,” he said.

“And of those forty-five, I only have three usable minutes, and those are all your bumbling interview.”

Shit.

“So how much longer?” asked Aaron.

Farley glanced at his watch. “Two hours. Maybe less. Don’t worry. Ralph is very good.”

The new man, presumably Ralph, approached Aaron. “Do you want this done fast or do you want to enjoy it?” he asked.

“How fast is fast?” answered Aaron.

“Two hours. Maybe less.” The man echoed Farley.

“What if I want to enjoy it?” asked Aaron.

“No guarantee that you will.”

Aaron took a deep breath. “Fast,” he said.

“Good. I’m your new Dom. Call me ‘Sir’. You’re allowed to talk, but you must show me respect or you’ll be punished. Understand?”

“Yeah,” answered Aaron.

Ralph grabbed him by his hair, flipped him onto his stomach and slammed his face into the mattress. He slapped Aaron’s ass so hard, he was sure it had left a welt.

“Son of a bitch,” shouted Aaron. “Yes, sir. Fuck.”

Ralph hit him again, harder.

“God dammit,” said Aaron. “What did I—”

Ralph hit him again.

Aaron bit his tongue. After a moment of silence, Ralph pulled Aaron’s face out of the mattress. “Do you know what you did wrong?” he asked.

“Yes—sir,” said Aaron.

“You are worthless. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are mine.”

“Yes, sir.”

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About the Author

Alyssa Rabil

 

Alyssa has always had a love for fiction. She read her first romance novel from her mother’s collection. Her first love story was about a tiger that fell in love with a zebra.

Alyssa lives in a wild west with her cats. She loves cooking and writing. Follow Alyssa on Facebook and Twitter.

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Dark Flame (Flame-Born #1) by Kat Silver

Debut author Kat Silver and Gay Book Promotions host today's blog tour stop for urban fantasy romance, Dark Flame (Flame-Born #1)! Read more about the new world and enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Dark Flame (Flame-Born 1)

Author: Kat Silver

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Bookfly

Release Date: February 6, 2021

Genre/s: MM paranormal/urban fantasy

Trope/s: Enemies to Lovers

Themes: Finding home and self. Self-discovery. Self-acceptance. Learning to trust.

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length:  82 000 words/310 pages

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Hunted by a vampire prince. Caged by his rescuer. Can Michael escape the dark destiny written in his blood, or will his own heart be his undoing?

 

Blurb

“I know who you are because you belong to me. You were born to be mine.” ~ Alexei Vasiliev, the vampire prince.

Haunted by the death of his parents, Michael Blakeley wants answers. The twenty-six-year-old martial artist seeks their killer, but he also wants to know why electronics short out at his touch, and why his libido is a raging fire.

When a group of soldiers calling themselves Guardians rescue him from a back alley ambush and claim to have the answers he needs, he agrees to go with them. Especially when they tell him the attackers were vampires. But nothing in this supernatural underworld is as it seems, and when the silver-eyed commander cages him instead, Michael's answers slip further away.

Can Michael find safety from the vampires who claim him? Can he escape the dark destiny he discovers is written into his blood? And will he break the chains of the commander who keeps him captive? The one man he has no desire to leave?

Dark Flame is the first pulse-pounding book in the Flame Born LGBT urban fantasy series. If you like enemies to lovers, shifters, sexy vampire princes, and scorching heat, you'll love this smoldering tale of bloodlust and magic.

Warning: Dark Flame is a gay erotic love story. It contains explicit language and sexual scenes between men, and is meant for adult readers only. There is content some readers may find distressing. See inside for potential triggers.



Excerpt

I kneel and hang my head and wait. I have to. I want to. There’s an elation in my chest, as though I’m about to meet a secret beloved I’m only now remembering. My attention draws upward, compelled to the stunning creature. I couldn’t look away if my life depended on it, but I avoid meeting his dark gaze.

With unearthly grace, the vampire saunters toward me, his eyes riveted to my face. The closer he comes, the more the battle slips into the background. It could be only the two of us here in the steelworks. Weapons fly around him—bolts and swords whistle through the air, heading for his chest, but stop midflight before they can meet their target and clatter to the concrete. He doesn’t spare them a glance.

The nearer he stalks, the harder my heart pounds. My breath comes in shallow puffs. Cold sweat soaks my T-shirt. My nails puncture the soft flesh of my palms. I feel defenseless.

The prince stands in front of me, close enough to touch, a towering demigod, his immense wings creating a shadowed cavern.

I force my eyes down, fixing them on a patch of crimson blood painted across the concrete. I resist a baffling urge to lean and rest my head against his hip.

Strong, elegant fingers cup my chin to lift my face. I tense, my stomach twisting with panic. I’m certain that once I meet those black eyes, it’s over. His fingers burn hot against my chin. The touch tingles my skin like champagne. I melt into his hand and look up, finding two pools of darkest night. My resistance vanishes.

Master. The word hangs in my mind.

I will never let it leave my lips.

About the Author 

I’m a simple northern English lass with an addiction to writing, as well as all things romance. Also addicted to cats, cat videos, and anything with, you know, cats in it. And there's chocolate, and tea, coffee too, and rainy Sundays. Okay, I have many addictions. But my first love has always been story in all its forms, from movies to books to anecdotes told over a beer at the local pub. If we're sharing a story, I'm all ears. And if it's fantasy with sexy heroes and vampires and lots of angsty luuurve, I'm probably drooling. Come in, pour yourself a tea, and kick your shoes off. Let me tell you a story.

  

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Turn by Erin M. Grillot

 

It's the final day for the Turn blog tour! Author Erin M. Grillot and Indigo Marketing share an exclusive excerpt from the debut contemporary novel! Read more about the suspenseful tale and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Turn

Author: Erin M. Grillot

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 23, 2020

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 69900

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, undercover/secret agent, childhood poverty, HFN

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Synopsis

The responsibilities Nathan has taken on are sometimes daunting, even as he loves his job. Always ready to rise to the occasion, he is both respected and feared in the office and in the field. His rise to quiet power has shaped his very being, and he knows each and every move as he plots his days and watches over his agents. His life has shaped him into a loner, however, and that is never more noticeable than when Eli begins work in Department 5.

Eli is not the typical Department 5 recruit, and his cheerful and polite nature is both intriguing and off-putting to Nathan. But as Eli weakens and breaks through Nathan’s walls, they gradually embark on a path of discovery and a relationship that defies both of their assumptions. It is by times quirky and odd, sometimes a little rough around the edges, always a bit fragile. But secrecy, lies, plots, and executions are Nathan’s job, and life—and some habits are hard to break. Finally, the tension their work holds can no longer be contained or ignored, and it threatens to destroy either themselves or all that they’ve found together.

Turn is a story about power, tough choices, and strategic moves—of knowing when to sacrifice a piece in this ongoing game of chess, sticking by your actions, and knowing what the endgame is—no matter what the personal cost. Most importantly, it’s about life’s hardest lesson. Sometimes love isn’t all that you need, and the wants of our hearts aren’t always enough to overcome who we are and the realities of life.

Author Visit

Hi; my name is Erin and today I’m talking a little bit about my new debut novel, Turn, which was out November 23rd from NineStar Press. I wanted to share with everyone one of my favorite scenes from Turn. While there are a lot of them, the below scene is one that really spoke to me as a key point in Nathan and Eli’s relationship and an apt descriptor of both of them. I had fun writing the back and forth insight into each of them. It’s also a very poignant scene for Nathan and a turning point for him and the plot.

Exclusive Excerpt:

I learn a lot about Eli over the course of the weeks of lunchtimes in my office; it is easy to do. He is deceptively open and an enthusiastic conversationalist. I know he is good at hiding things, almost as masterful as me, but only when it comes to certain things, only when he consciously wants to. Everything else is readily available. Not only that, he goes so far as to offer it up. I want to ask him how—why?

The thought of that much knowledge, power slipping out terrifies me, locks me down. To watch it pass so easily and so often from between his lips continuously baffles me.

It is in everything he says to me, even the small pieces.

*****

“I’m really close with Crissy, despite the age difference, always have been. Not sure if you knew this, if some random word gave it away one day, but we’re both adopted” comes out one day over chess.

I nod slowly. The way he talked about her and his parents had indeed clued me in. “I had wondered if one of you was. Hadn’t guessed that it was the both of you.”

“When I first went away to college, she was just turning two. And I didn’t want to leave her. I was enough of a homebody already, but she made it even harder to go. And over and over again that factored into every decision I made.”

“And every single one you didn’t make as well,” I add on, unable to help myself. Eli grimaces and looks away, but he nods, acknowledging the truth of it.

*****

“I think that if I could get paid just to read all day, I would be in heaven,” Eli says with a sigh one morning as he delivers coffee for the both of us, looking a bit weathered and weary though it is only 10 a.m. and only Tuesday.

“So do it,” I say casually, despite the small and unexpectedly sharp tendril of fear that shoots through me at the thought he just might do it, might up and leave Department 5 and, therefore, me. Ignoring the thought, the possibility, is the only viable option. I blink to clear it all from my mind.

“Not much of a demand for it, not without other obligations, requirements…things I definitely do not excel at.” And Eli makes a face at that, half disgust and half self-deprecating.

*****

“My favorite color is blue,” Eli announces randomly one Friday, a handful of moves into our weekly chess game.

“I simply don’t believe it.” My voice is deadpan as I take in his shirt, third blue one of the week.

A small chuckle escapes him before he responds just as dryly, “Usually when one person volunteers information, the other one reciprocates.”

I wave my hand in the air at him, feeling oddly good-natured; the sun is shining, it’s a Friday, I’m three pieces up in the game, and Eli is in my office.

“That’s for amateurs. You get four guesses. For each wrong guess, you lose a piece,” I say with a nod toward the game board. I may be three pieces up, but it is still close enough that this will tip the tides completely in my favor.

There is a moment of quiet, a calculating look from Eli before he nods slowly. He’s probably just lost any chance at this game, but the smile that inches onto his face makes it impossible to tell. Maybe he’ll surprise me. He makes a big deal of spending a moment sizing me up, dragging his eyes over my face, across my chest, and then around the room. His fingers hover over his rook, not quite touching. A smirk dances across his face as his hand suddenly changes directions.

“Pink,” he says with a wide grin, plucking a pawn from his side and tossing it to me.

I catch it easily, eyes focused on the piece. He’s playing with me. My gaze cuts to him, cataloging his relaxed stance and bright eyes. He thinks he’s going to win.

“Orange,” he says this time, another piece lobbed my way. He doesn’t have any pawns left and a handful of thoughts flash through me as his hands dance between his king and his queen, playful smile still on his face, eyes sweeping the board. His arms cross against his chest as he leans away from the board, settling into his chair, eyes never leaving mine. Suddenly, he leans forward, and his hand darts out, taking his king and sweeping it quite illegally in front of mine, knocking my bishop out of the way to claim that square. He tips my king over in a methodical yet flashy way, eyes still locked with mine.

“Mahogany,” he announces as he stands. “Checkmate.”

And he walks out.

*

I stare after him for longer than I should; it is just a closed door, it holds no answers, but I look to it as if it does.

*****

That moment, that one word between us, made me realize the extent to which Eli and I had interacted, the extent to which I’d allowed myself to get close enough to reveal things to him. I’m not sure if I would have stated “mahogany,” but once he said it, there was no denying it.

That moment has altered everything in my perception of him.

Excerpt

Turn
Erin M. Grillot © 2020
All Rights Reserved

They often say you have to let something go, and if it comes back to you, it’s yours. For the longest time I believed that was bullshit—the worst damn advice ever given. That those words, like so many others, were just one of the many lies we would tell ourselves to convince us it’ll all be okay. Patronizing and empty.

Or, so I had thought.

But, sometimes, you give up your queen to protect your king even if it isn’t what you want to do. You may not get that piece back, you may be stuck with a pawn the rest of the game, but you saved your king. And in a game of chess, that can be the difference between a win and a loss; and in life, the difference between survival and death, happiness and apathy, success and failure.

*

A headache builds near the edge of my temple tonight—just an inkling so far, spurred on by the limits I seem to keep pressing and expanding. History has proven that it will blossom into a full-blown one by tomorrow. It means I haven’t been sleeping enough, and I’ve been squinting at papers and screens for too many days in a row. I should go home, eat a real dinner, and sleep, if even for a few hours, in my own bed. I also know, as I know many things, it is unlikely to happen, not at already half eight and after an unexpected phone call with an undisclosed, yet disgruntled French government employee destroyed my productivity earlier this afternoon. A small sigh escapes me as I rub the bridge of my nose and turn my eyes back to the file in my hand.

I jest about my job sometimes to myself, oversimplifying it to the hero-and-villainesque themes of a childhood comic book. A therapist might say it is a coping mechanism, which may be true, but if I think of it that way, then the real-life complexity doesn’t matter to me. I am aware my day-to-day decisions are more gray than black-and-white. The business of secretly making sure the free world stays that way isn’t a quiet desk job for the faint of heart. It is an unending mess of data and decisions juggled and balanced with ruthlessness, subterfuge, PR, and ridiculous amounts of coffee. A veritable nightmare some days, but utterly fulfilling in its endgame.

These last few years, I am rarely active in the field anymore, generally spending my time in either the planning or cleanup stages of the operations, hidden in some windowless office that justifies my lack of knowledge about the weather. But the past weeks, I have ended up involved in multiple side tasks that take me back to my beginning days here at Department 5. Side tasks that come with their own laundry list of issues. And while I thrive on it all, relish each time I tick something off a to-do list, close out a deal, solve an international incident, save a life, take a life—there is still a limit. I need a break, probably more than I realize.

Some days, I am not even sure what it is I do all day, what this job has made of me. There are papers and meetings, decisions and actions. I oversee budgets and tactile missions in the same sentence somedays, make war and peace on two different continents in the span of hours, make a decision about copier paper and which guns to supply with the same signature. I’m still damn good at my job, even when I don’t always quite know how to define it.

There was never an interview, at least not an official one. My title and job description don’t actually exist. I’ve been here edging toward twenty years now, and after years of missions and working my way through the ranks, it seemed to simply happen. There was suddenly an open office and a second bodyguard; respect and fear; John, my mentor, quietly slipping out of the picture. And it was never said out loud, possibly never even thought—all my door says on it is my name—but it was as if it didn’t need saying or to be written. It simply was. Someone always needs to be at the top.

Sometimes, though, sitting in my office late at night, I wish I could see a self-portrait of myself. Do I look as old and tired as I feel, despite still being in my midthirties? Is this suit the powerhouse I imagined when putting it on this morning? Are the worry lines showing on my forehead; how disheveled does my hair look today? The physical attributes I feel define me…are they noticeable, or is it my own inherent belief that these things matter that makes them so? My elbows crooked at a crisp ninety-degree angle, resting along the desk with my sleeves rolled, tie and vest still in perfect condition…is it the picture that I think it is?

Image—being seen, or not seen, as I want to be—has been an armor for me since I was little, since I first discovered what it could do for me. The first time I learned how to hide in the library, how to camouflage myself as belonging somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, looking the part to get handouts, not looking the part to avoid the critical eye of the police or school counselor. Clothes, demeanor, actions, stance, pronunciation…all a part of the package perfected in many ways over the years. It is an everyday thing for me now and as intrinsic as breathing.

My mind runs through it all in the background, juggling to keep a million things straight and on their course as I scan through the proposal—an eighty-plus page document that should have been twenty. Flowery and overdetailed, the analyst has potential, but he’s too fresh, too eager. I’m forcing myself through the pages, jotting notes and underlining the key pieces that were relatively well done. It’s tiring, more so than it should be, but there’s something important about knowing your employees and colleagues and what their thoughts and potential are. I expect a lot of my employees, and they rarely fail to deliver, but I also teach them well. I’m a hard boss, but I am also a fair one. I work more hours than anyone under me, something I make sure of each week. I can’t expect it of them if I can’t do it myself.

A sharp rap on the door startles me, and I blink slowly. The clock reads eleven thirty, and another slow blink reveals the same. Hours have passed without my knowledge. Peering down at the papers still in my grip, I find myself on page seventy-two, same as when I’d glanced at the clock striking nine. I roll my neck gently. My headache won’t be the only thing bothering me tomorrow.

I stand as Robert turns the knob and eases the door open. He stands up fully as soon as he spots me, and the slight frown already on his face deepens.

“Ready?” he asks.

My eyes cast wistfully toward the stack of papers for only a second before I grab them, nod, and follow him out of the room and down the hall. He holds open the car door as I climb in the back, and as he pulls away from the curb, a small yawn escapes my lips. His eyes track to mine in the rearview mirror, but anything he thinks of saying is silenced by whatever he sees on my face. If it is enough to leave him off his mothering, it probably isn’t good.

Five minutes later, he pulls in front of my building, and the car crawls to a stop. The small light in the entryway is on, which means Robert has made sure someone is on duty tonight. Despite my tiredness and headache, the smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and it doesn’t leave until I hear the car pull away after I shut the door behind me. I climb the stairs and unlock my own front door out of muscle memory.

I loosen my tie and, for just a moment, lean back against the door, letting the faint feeling of home wash over me. It is a small moment, over almost as it begins, but it gives me the strength to change into sweats and not lie down on the bed, and to make notes on the remaining twelve pages of the proposal brief I’d been working through before officially calling it a night.

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Meet the Author

Erin is a native Midwesterner who has spent her life loving words in all their forms. Turn is her first novel. She lives in Iowa with her three children. An avid wine lover, introvert, coffee addict, and nerd; most of her free time is spent with her children, reading, or writing. Find Erin on Twitter.

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