Book Blast: The House with a Thousand Stairs by Garrick Jones

Author Garrick Jones and Gay Book Promotions share book info for The House with a Thousand Stairs! Learn more about the historical Australian romance today!

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The House with a Thousand Stairs

Author: Garrick Jones

Publisher: MoshPit Publishing

Cover Artist: Garrick Jones

Release Date: March 18, 2020

Genre: Historical gay novel

Tropes: Rekindling past friendships; the connection of spirits.

Themes: Cross-cultural relationships; connection through the love of the land; rebuilding lives after conflict; Indigenous beliefs and spirituality; farmer and policeman; Australian Outback.

Heat Rating: 2 - 3 flames

Length: 353 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon AU  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Smashwords

Blurb

Warrambool

In Gamilaraay, the language of the Kamilaroi peoples of north-western New South Wales, it's the word for The Milky Way. It's also the name of Peter Dixon's homestead and sheep station, situated in the lee of the Liverpool Ranges.

In 1947, Peter returns from war, his parents and younger brother dead, the property de-stocked and his older brother, Ron, having emptied out the family bank account and nowhere to be found.

The House With a Thousand Stairs is the story of a young man, scarred both on the inside and the outside, trying to re-establish what once was a prosperous and thriving sheep station with the help of his neighbours and his childhood friend, Frank Hunter, the local Indigenous policeman.

Enveloped by the world of Indigenous spirituality, the Kamilaroi system of animal guides and totems, Peter and Frank discover the true nature of their predestined friendship, one defined by the stars, the ancestral spirits, and Baiame, the Creator God and Sky Father of The Dreaming.

Maliyan bandaarr, maliyan biliirr.

Excerpt

Two days later, Richard Williams, Sparrow's nephew, turned up.

Peter was standing in the old kitchen when he heard the car horn. He'd been shaving off his patchy beard and still had soap on half his face, so yelled up the side passage, "Out here!" He couldn't be bothered shaving since he'd come back home and had let his beard grow for a few days. It grew thicker along his chin line than on his cheeks, and had got to the length where it looked untidy and scraggly … and it itched like a bastard.

"Jesus, look at you," he said as Richard poked his head in the door. "You grew."

"So did you."

The first thing Peter noticed in his shaving mirror was how his boyhood friend had filled out. Dressed in a singlet under a pale blue shirt, opened to the third button from the neck, and overalls rolled down to the waist, Richard leaned against the doorframe, idly inspecting Peter's back.

"Few war wounds, Pete."

"You bring any back?"

"Only on my dick. Teeth marks mainly."

Peter laughed, holding the razor away from his face so he didn't cut himself.

"I bet if I had a good look I'd find teeth marks in other places, Dick."

"No one calls me Dick anymore, except my uncle, Pete."

"You'll always be Dick to me," Peter replied with a wink.

His friend laughed. They stared at each other in the mirror longer than men who hadn't been close as teenagers might have done.

"Mechanic, eh?" Peter said, rinsing off his face and wiping his razor on a towel. He still used a straight edge.

"Here," Richard said, "turn around, you've missed a bit."

He took the razor and then scraped under Peter's chin, nudging it upwards first with the back of his fist.

"I've missed more than a bit," Peter said, pushing forward gently so their hips bumped against each other.

"I don't do that anymore," Richard replied with a smile.

"Yeah, neither do I."

They both laughed.

There'd been a small group of boys, on the cusp of becoming men, who'd been close. They'd "mucked about together", as it was called back then. They'd laughed and joked about it, compared sizes, talked about the girls they said they'd rooted, when every one of them knew each of them had lied. But then there'd been those times when a few of them would slip off somewhere together without the others, or meet up by chance with ants in their pants and find somewhere quiet.

Peter had been popular—the others had sought him out. He was happy to do the thing the others were leery of, or felt was somehow not manly. None of them blabbed about his ability to roll onto his tummy or lift a knee against a tree to let them have a go. He didn't care what anyone thought. It didn't make him feel any less of a bloke for it—he simply liked the feeling. His availability had always come at a cost, though. He'd invariably asked, "A ride there for a ride back?" And they'd always nodded dumbly, their knees trembling, knowing the reciprocal ride back was as rare as hens' teeth. Dick Williams had been one of the few of his mates who had been happy to allow Peter to climb on after he'd had a turn, or to get on his knees and give him a gobbie afterwards to bring him off.

"Christ you've got some muscles on you, Pete Dixon."

"Comes from doing push-ups with blokes on my back who say 'I don't do that anymore'."

Richard snorted softly. "Guess that's something you didn't give up in the army?"

"I'll bet you a fiver you didn't either."

Richard didn't reply, he merely shrugged and looked over his shoulder out of the doorway. It's what nervous blokes did, Peter thought. What have you got to be nervous about, Richard Williams? Those were his thoughts, but something below his belt had answered his question.

"So, we gonna go have a squiz at your truck?" Richard asked, offering his packet of tailor-mades.

"In a minute," Peter said, shaking his head at the offer of a Chesterfield and then taking his makings pouch from the pocket of his shirt, which had been draped over the back of a chair.

"What you waiting for?"

"You to take your clobber off and get in there," Peter said, tossing his head in the direction of the room in which he'd been sleeping for the past three days.

"I dunno, Pete … it's been a long while, and as I said, I don't—"

"Get in there, Williams," Peter said with a growl as he lit his cigarette. "The squiz at the truck can wait a bit, there's something in your pants I want a gander at first."

He watched for a few seconds while Richard fumbled with his shirt; his hands were trembling. There'd always been a lot of chemistry between them. It was something he'd almost tasted the moment Richard had poked his head around the doorway.

"Let me unbutton your shirt," Peter said gently, passing him his lit cigarette.

"Unless they had different names for them in the part of the army you served in, Pete, that's not my shirt," Richard said with a laugh.

"Buttons, buttons, shirt or pants, they all have to be undone, sooner or later."

About the Author 

After a thirty year career as a professional opera singer, performing as a soloist in opera houses and in concert halls all over the world, I took up a position as lecturer in music in Australia in 1999, at the Central Queensland Conservatorium of Music, which is now part of CQUniversity.

Brought up in Australia, between the bush and the beaches of the Eastern suburbs, I retired in 2015 and now live in the tropics, writing, gardening, and finally finding time to enjoy life and to re-establish a connection with who I am after a very busy career on the stage and as an academic.

I write mostly historical gay fiction. The stories are always about relationships and the inner workings of men; sometimes my fellas get down to the nitty-gritty, sometimes it's up to you, the reader, to fill in the blanks.

Every book is story driven; spies, detectives, murders, epic dramas, there's something for everyone. I also love to write about my country and the things that make us Aussies and our history different from the rest of the world.

I'm research driven. I always try to do my best to give the reader a sense of what life was like for my main characters in the world they live in.

Social Media Links

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Newsletter Sign-up  |  Pinterest  |  Australian Crime Writers Association

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Plague and Ash by Sita Bethel

Author Sita Bethel and IndiGo Marketing share new paranormal release, Plague and Ash! Read more and enter in the NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Plague and Ash

Author: Sita Bethel

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/21/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 69300

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, Magic, magic users, interspecies, mythical creatures, zombies, undead, plague, farming, hurt/comfort, illness, disease

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Description

Sarah only went to Oreburn University of Incantations so her parents would stop asking her when she’d settle down. However, after a strange plague decimates her hometown, Sarah finds herself fleeing with the undead chasing her.

As she escapes, she meets Brighid, a half orc noble, and together, they must reach Oreburn before the undead can overrun the city. Sarah discovers a decay sorcerer created the original curse, and only a wizard powerful enough to destroy him can end the plague.

But now they have to find that wizard.

Excerpt

Plague and Ash
Sita Bethel © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Something woke me. I blinked at the morning light peeking through the curtains and cutting rectangles onto the ceiling. Only a corner of the quilt draped over my legs while the rest twisted beside me. I must’ve been thrashing in my sleep again. I hadn’t slept well since I’d come home for harvest break, too worried. After slinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I tucked them into my house shoes to avoid the chilly wooden floor. I heard Mama coughing in the kitchen. The acrid smoke smacked me in the face as soon as I left my room. I waved my hand around my nose.

“Mama?”

“Burned the damn sausage. Did the smoke wake you?” Mama scraped four burnt discs out of her cast iron skillet and into the scrap bowl, but I was sure Buttermilk wouldn’t touch them.

“The coughing,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry, Sarah. It’s the smoke, nothing else. Pops and I have been drinking elderberry juice, and once we’ve harvested all the crops, we’ll hole up through the winter and wait for this to blow over.”

“Biscuits.” I rushed to the oven, using a dish rag to pull out the tin pan before they burned with the sausage.

“Sorry, my mind’s elsewhere.”

“I can help you and Pops harvest if you’re worried.”

“No. We done told you to stay inside with your brothers.”

“The only reason I came home from the School was to help with the harvest, so let me help.”

“Oh, you came home to work? And here I thought you’d want to see your family.”

“Of course I do.” I shoved my fists against my hips. “And help. Why won’t you let me be useful? The sooner you’re done, the sooner we can all spend more time together.”

“Sarah.” Mama plopped her rump onto a nearby stool and rested her elbows on her knees. “We didn’t want you to worry, but…”

“Who’s sick?” Frowning, I crossed my arms over my chest. The towel dangled in my hand.

“Aunt Flora.” Mama turned away. The gas lights made her gray streak flash and made the wrinkles around her mouth deep as weathered cracks splitting wood. “The baby’s got the Fever too.”

“Mama.” I dropped the towel. Crouching low, I roped my arms around her.

“You stay inside, all right?”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’ll…be all right. I’m sure. Will you re-cook the sausage for me? I need to help your father.”

“Go on.” I pulled a pack of butcher paper out of the ice box and set it on the counter.

“We’ll be home late.” Mama pulled me close to kiss my temple and then walked out the door.

I warshed my hands in the deep, enamel sink. It was only October, but the morning water rushing over my hands was frigid. Hissing, I grabbed another towel and dried them before shaping the ground meat into patties and getting them in a hot skillet. The view from the kitchen window was burnished, sun all orange and fiery as it struck the mist clinging to the yard. Buttermilk crept along the fence line, stalking a field mouse. I hoped she caught it because otherwise it’d be burnt sausage for her.

A shadow slipped through the cluster of pecan trees near the road. At least I thought one did, but when I squinted, I only saw a fat old squirrel cursing at something hiding in the branches above him. I snorted, shook my head, and flipped the sausages. As they browned, I fetched a jar of sorghum molasses and set it on the table with the butter dish. We grew sorghum grain, but Mama always kept enough sweet sorghum in the garden to make syrup for us.

Abel was the first to stumble out of his room. His hair sprayed around his head in dark brown wisps. They took after Mama, but I had Pops’s copper highlights. Last semester, the other girls at the School convinced me to lighten my hair with peroxide, but instead of summer-kissed and sunny, it turned a brassy off-orange, and once my roots grew out, I had Billy take his clippers to it. Now it was a shaggy mess, and I couldn’t wait until it was long enough to pull away from my face.

“Where’s Mama?” Abel asked.

“She went to help Pops. There’s sausage in the skillet.”

“Why does it smell of smoke?”

“Mama burnt the sausage, but I cooked more.” I fixed my own plate and sat on the stool next to the stove, balancing the plate on my lap.

“Did she swear?”

“Yup.”

“Only time I ever hear Mama swear is in the kitchen.”

Abel was right, so I offered a distracted laugh, but I was focused on dipping my biscuit into my sorghum syrup and not his chatter. Abel pulled last night’s sweet tea from the ice box, sat at the table, and shoved his breakfast into his mouth. He chugged half a mason jar’s worth of tea before sighing and setting the glass onto the table.

“I’m gonna go to the pond and get some catfish for dinner.”

“No, you ain’t.” I snorted. We’ve had this conversation damn near every day for three heckin’ weeks.

“I swear I won’t talk to nobody, so let me go.”

“No, you ain’t going. I promised Mama we’d stay inside.”

“Sarah, I’m fourteen. I can handle myself.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Was I this stubborn when I argued with Mama? With three of us giving her sass, no wonder she had a gray streak cutting through her hair like a skunk stripe.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Hey there, readers. It’s me, ya boi, Sita Bethel. And this is a biography where I tell you all the boring facts about my life- like how I have a degree in writing, and how my two cats, Odin and Anpu, will one day rule this land as your feline overlords. Enough of that same old, same old. Here’s the real dirt. Sita Bethel likes to wrap up like a burrito with a weighted blanket. They host coloring parties as a personal eff-you to anxiety, and read everything from trash British sensationalist novels like The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins to literary masterpieces like The Color Purple by Alice Walker. Had enough of Sita Bethel yet? If not, check out @sita_bethel on Twitter, or sitabethelfiction on Facebook, or even www.sitabethel.com.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Something Else by Alicia Thompson

 Author Alicia Thompson and IndiGo Marketing share today's new release blitz for Something Else! Learn more about the slow burn romance and enter in the NineStar Press giveaway!

Title: Something Else

Author: Alicia Thompson

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/19/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 72400

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, romance, lit, contemporary, farmer, doctor, gay, bisexual, Australian outback, accident, slow burn, friends to lovers, questioning, tearjerker, out for you

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Description

When his father died, David Mulkerin gave up teaching in Sydney to come home and run the family farm in western NSW. He is driven by personal demons and family tragedy to see it through, despite his love of teaching and the ongoing drought and debt.

When David meets the new local doctor Martin James, there is a meeting of minds and dark pasts. Martin is intrigued by David’s closed demeanour and makes an effort to reach him. They strike up a friendship, able to understand the pain in each other’s past. When David discovers that Martin is gay, he feels duped and betrayed, but the revelation forces him to confront what it means to love someone and how sometimes we don’t get to choose.

Excerpt

Something Else
Alicia Thompson © 2021
All Rights Reserved

He’d felt the pull, but there was no pain. Yet. Only the livid blood running through his fingers, dropping to the ground like seed. Grabbing his wrist, he ran back to the cab of the ute, found a rag in the glove box, clutched it in his hand. The fleshy part of his palm just below the thumb was beginning to throb.

He walked back to where the cows were chewing the hay he’d torn apart. Shaking out that last biscuit with his good hand, he found the culprit. A jagged piece of fencing wire. Bastard. Better him than one of his cows.

By the time he’d driven through three sets of gates and juggled numerous gear changes, the pain was like a blade pushing through his palm to his wrist. He consoled himself that in his own experience the smallest wounds often hurt the most.

He ransacked the cupboard under the bathroom sink and found cotton wool and a roll of bandages. No Dettol. Reefing everything out onto the floor, he found a small can of antiseptic spray rolling around the back of the shelf. It was rusted and useless.

Still clutching the dirty rag in his hand, he headed out to the kitchen. He wasn’t much into hard spirits, so the ancient cooking brandy used for his mum’s Christmas cakes would have to do.

Back in the bathroom he slowly pulled away the rag. It grabbed where it had stuck to the wound and fresh carmine welled up through the rusty-brown muck. He turned on the tap and before he had time to think about what was coming, thrust his hand under. It was times like this he realised how limited his repertoire of swear words actually was. Catching him once, his mother had said, “That’s a lovely conjugation, dear, now take it outside before I belt you round the head.”

He could now see the extent of the damage: a gutter of open flesh, torn to a long triangle at the end, black in its depths. He glanced at the brandy bottle. Shit. He hugged it to him and unscrewed the lid. He was about to pour it when he chickened out and took a big slug instead. Then another. Gritting his teeth, he poured the rest into his hand.

Fang lay where he’d been left, staring through the screen door on the front verandah, his head on his paws, his ears pricked. The tan dots above his eyes gave him a perpetually surprised look. An anguished howl roared down the hallway. He lifted his head and waited.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Alicia Thompson grew up on a farm in country NSW. She has a Masters in Creative Writing from UTS along with some financial and accounting qualifications. She has worked as a bookkeeper, photographer, editor, adventure tour leader in the Middle East and China, business analyst, writing teacher and general herder of cats. Her published work includes numerous book reviews, travel articles, and short stories. She lives and works in Sydney. More can be found on her website www.aliciathompson.com.au.

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Review: Merry Cherry Christmas by Keira Andrews

A nice boy gets naughty...

Redheaded freshman Jeremy "Cherry" Rourke is certainly living up to his childhood nickname, although still being inexperienced is the least of his concerns. After coming out, his parents barely talk to him. He hasn't made any friends at university. Worst of all, he's about to spend Christmas completely alone in an empty dorm.

Jeremy clearly needs a fairy godfather, so football captain Max Pimenta takes him under his wing to help him find his dating groove. But Jeremy's wound way too tight. He's too vulnerable. Max can't trust some random guy with him. He needs to take care of Jeremy himself and introduce him to no-pressure exploration. It's not about romance or feelings—he's just doing the kid a favor.

Max is definitely not falling for this lonely, beautiful boy. No way.

And it's not like he can leave Jeremy all alone for the holidays. He'll bring him home to his family's maple syrup farm—strictly as friends since his parents have rules. No more fooling around. No more eager, breathless fun. No more making Jeremy shiver and blush with suggestive whispers in his ear. No more sweeter-than-sugar kisses. All nice. No more naughty.

But Jeremy's sleeping right across the hall, and Max wants him for himself. The twelve days of Christmas will last an eternity if they don't break the rules.

Shhh. No one has to know...

Merry Cherry Christmas is a feel-good holiday MM romance from Keira Andrews featuring a nervous nerd and protective, jealous jock, forced proximity, first times, and of course a happy ending.

 

Freshman Jeremy, nicknamed “Cherry”, makes quite the impression when he wipes out on an icy night. Lucky for him, his would-be rescuer is football captain Max.

I love me a good meet cute. And this one was stellar. It was the perfect mix of funny and sweet. And what follows is even better - a friendship with some serious underlying sexual tension.

Max decides to take Jeremy under his wing and introduce him to Toronto’s gay scene. To help Cherry pop his cherry, so to speak.

Except Max gets a bit too protective. Also, Jeremy isn’t at all comfortable with strangers. So there’s really only one solution - Jeremy and Max will just have to have some fun together.

And do they ever - Max is a good teacher, and Jeremy’s an eager student. I really liked how gentle Max was, going at Jeremy’s pace and making sure he was always comfortable.

The exploration comes to an abrupt halt as school breaks for the holidays. With Jeremy’s own family being less-than-welcoming, Max invites him to tag along to the family maple syrup farm.

I absolutely loved Max’s kind and welcoming family! And their snowy farm was the perfect backdrop to Jeremy and Max’s budding romance.

Because while the two might have hit pause on shenanigans to respect Max’s parents’ house rules, that doesn’t stop them from slowly falling for each other. With each passing day on the farm, the two get to know one another more and become closer.

I really appreciated how they made space for each other. Jeremy feels comfortable being himself around Max, while Max unburdens some of his worries to Jeremy.

Their romance moves quickly, but it’s entirely believable. You can’t help but root for them!

Needless to say, the no-touching rule eventually goes out the window. And once the two admit to each other that they have feelings, it’s all hot kisses and sweet words.

This is a fairly low-drama read. The big issue is Jeremy’s unaccepting parents. It’s not a major stumbling block, but their treatment of Jeremy was still infuriating. Luckily Max’s family had more than enough love to spare!

My one complaint - I would have liked to see Jeremy acknowledge his anxiety and self-esteem issues. I totally felt for him, but I also wanted to see him work on loving himself more.

Regardless, this was an adorable Christmas MM romance. If you’re looking for a sweet and easy read with lots of holiday feels, give ‘Merry Cherry Christmas’ a try!

A copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Burying the Hatchet by A.C. Thomas

Join author A.C. Thomas and IndiGo Marketing as they celebrate the release of Burying the Hatchet! Learn more about the holiday themed rivals to lovers romance and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Burying the Hatchet

Author: A.C. Thomas

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: December 7, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 32800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, gay, holiday/seasonal, Christmas tree farm, interracial, enemies/rivals to lovers, second chances, family drama/homophobia, outing, slow burn, size difference, Southern, mutual pining

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Synopsis

Home for the holidays for the first time in five years, Clayton Osborne steps off the plane with a chip on his shoulder and a suitcase full of grief…only to come face to flannel-covered chest with his worst nightmare. It’s Jake Carver, his high school nemesis and guilty crush. Clayton never expected Jake to still be working on his family tree farm. Of course, now that he’s older and wiser, it will be no problem to ignore Jake’s axe-swinging, barb-slinging, larger-than-life presence. Right?

Jake Carver loves his work, running NorthStar Tree Farm like it was his own. He’s let other things in his life fall by the wayside as he poured everything he had into his job. Until Clayton Osborne, star of his teenage dreams and his greatest regret returns home as beautiful and feisty as ever. If Jake just keeps his head down and focuses on his work, he can make it through the holidays without revealing his lingering feelings for Clayton. Right?

The mountains of North Carolina ring with more than Christmas bells when boyhood enemies collide as men. Long-buried feelings blossom and grow while the pair work side by side to save the farm, until Clayton must confront his obligation to return to his job in Chicago. He’s going to have to choose. Does he want his big-city life, or love in the mountains? All of this hinges on whether he and Jake can finally bury the hatchet. Can love overcome the years of conflict in their past?

With the help of a good old-fashioned Christmas miracle, it just might.

Excerpt

They settled into a routine, spending the week setting up for the Jubilee and cutting trees for retail, Clayton organizing the office into a semblance of order while Jake decorated the house. Visiting Ma every other day.

There was no discussion of it, but they fell into a pattern of eating every meal together before long, breakfast standing in the kitchen, lunch out by the barn, dinner at the table.

Clayton worked through Ma’s patched-together home cookbook, flipping through stained, sticky pages to find old favorites.

On Thursday, he stood stirring a pot of Brunswick stew when the creak of a floorboard alerted him to Jake peering over his shoulder.

He held out a taste on the cracked wooden spoon, steam thickening the air between them.

Jake ducked his head, pausing at Clayton’s hissed “Careful, it’s hot,” and nodded slowly before blowing on the spoon, letting Clayton slip it between his full lips with a satisfied hum. The resulting flutter in Clayton’s stomach had nothing to do with food.

The sweet, building comfort of domesticity started ringing alarm bells in Clayton’s head, warning him to make a reality check before he fell too deeply into the fantasy.

That was how he found himself sitting up in bed, scrolling idly through his favorite dating app just to take a look at the local scene since he’d been gone.

Plenty of attractive guys, but he couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm, passing on every one without a second thought.

Until he came across a profile picture that stopped him in his tracks, the air freezing in his lungs.

There, on his screen, right in front of his face, was a set of abs Clayton could have picked out of a lineup.

In poor lighting.

During a snowstorm.

A familiar canvas of warm skin scattered with tiny tight black curls, every muscle defined and exaggerated to absurd proportions. Dark-brown freckles across his broad shoulders with a thin, jagged scar stretched across his collarbone and a birthmark in the shape of Australia just above his Adonis belt on the left side.

Jake freaking Carver had a profile on here. Under the name “MountainMan21.”

Holy shit.

Clayton sucked in air with a ragged gasp, having spent far too long without taking a single breath, fixated on the image.

His radiator must be working overtime because the room was suddenly far too hot.

A thrill went down his spine, old fantasies resurrected like a phoenix from the flames. Memories of working the farm with Jake in the summer during high school, his shirt magically evaporating and leaving Clayton as hot and sweaty as the sun beating down on their heads.

But then reality set in, along with building, brewing anger.

Just like the way Clayton had usually cooled off in those days when Jake had shoved him into the filthy pond, laughing as he sputtered in the mud.

What if this wasn’t really a profile?

What if it was a trap? He’d read about that happening sometimes. Guys making fake profiles to lure unsuspecting people and beat them or worse.

Was Jake involved in something nefarious?

Clayton didn’t want to believe it; Jake had mellowed so much as an adult, giving no hint that he bore Clayton any ill will for his sexuality. Acting so sweet with his ma.

But this. It came out of nowhere.

Clayton was going to have to get to the bottom of it.

After he scrolled through the rest of these pictures.

Cheese crisps, how many angles could one guy use to take pictures of his own abdomen? Not that Clayton was complaining about the view, but, wow.

He only hated himself a little bit for taking screenshots.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

A.C. Thomas left the glamorous world of teaching preschool for the even more glamorous world of staying home with her toddler. Between the diaper changes and tea parties, she escapes into fantastical worlds, reading every romance available and even writing a few herself.

She devours books of every flavor—science fiction, historical, fantasy—but always with a touch of romance because she believes there is nothing more fantastical than the transformative power of love.

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Review: The Sex Coach by Garrett Leigh

The teacher and the student. The stable hand and the single dad. First times and friendship turn to love.

Toby
There’s nothing attractive about a twenty-four year old virgin, especially not one who blushes every time a hot dude looks his way. But I can’t help the heat that ripples through me every time I see Cole Maguire. And the clench of my heart when I realise how unhappy he is. He’s a city boy with a baby on his hip—we have nothing in common—but if he can teach me how to own my sexuality, perhaps I can teach him he’s worth loving.

Cole
I don’t like horses. But I love my daughter, and there’s nothing I won’t do for her, including leaving the city for life on a farm. I’m ready for that, but I’m not ready for blushing stable hands who make my heart race and my blood run hot. Toby has no idea how beautiful he is. I can teach him that, if he can handle the heat, but after one night with him…damn.

Maybe it’s me that has a lot to learn.

Tender, not too angsty, and no major drama - it’s the lighter side of Garrett Leigh!

This book is a spin-off of the Skins series. I thought the book worked fine as a stand-alone, but I probably missed some nuances in the relationships of the side characters. Regardless, I didn’t feel that I was missing anything major.

‘The Sex Coach’ follows Toby, the jack-of-all-trades at horse sanctuary/health retreat Whisper Farm and 24-year-old virgin, and Cole, new physiotherapist and father of a baby girl.

From the moment the two meet, they both feel an undeniable attraction. But it’s not one they act on immediately - Toby’s nervous about sex, and Cole has to put his daughter first.

I absolutely adored Toby. He’s a complete sweetheart - a bit shy and awkward, and so kind and just nice. And he loves animals. Yes, my heart did go aflutter a few times!

Cole was a bit more difficult to connect to. His approach to life (and to Toby, at times) was often quite...mopey. And I just didn’t really get why that was.

Garrett Leigh often writes troubled men, but their backgrounds are fleshed out and understandable. In this case, I never understood why Cole felt the way he did.

That being said, I liked how devoted Cole was to his daughter. 10/10 for good co-parenting.

I also loved how patient Cole was with Toby. He respected Toby’s boundaries, and made sure that whatever they tried was on Toby’s terms.

And was it ever some hot sexual discovery! These two take to experimenting pretty enthusiastically.

The emotional connection grows gradually. Toby and Cole start off as friends, then friends with benefits, and eventually they’re falling for each other.

Though they do have to work through some hangups, it was never too dramatic.

The best part of Cole and Toby’s relationship was how simple their feelings for each other were - just some wholesome heart eyes and boners. Entirely wholesome!

Overall, this was a fairly easy and enjoyable read, if not necessarily a grand romance. If you’re looking for an MM romance set on a farm by the Cornwall coast, give ‘The Sex Coach’ a try.

A copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

Blog Tour + Giveaway: The Hunter's Gambit (The Archanium Codex #1) by Nicholas McIntire

Welcome author Nicholas McIntire and Other Worlds Ink as they host today's tour stop for The Hunter's Gambit (The Archanium Codex #1)! Read more about the queer fantasy and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway! (TWO WINNERS)

Nicholas McIntire has a new queer fantasy book out, The Archanium Codex book 1: "The Hunter's Gambit."

Aleksei Drago never expected an easy life, but he never expected what he got. Growing up amongst the Ri-Vhan of Seil Wood, losing his mother and just as suddenly being torn from the forest folk, Aleksei had no choice but to make the best of the unpredictable path in life.

But what happens when the monsters and figures of fiction become horrifyingly real? Can Aleksei find the right path? When his life and the lives of his family and friends are at stake will he fight, reforging himself into the man Prophecy demands he become? In a world of magic and Magi, of Angels and Demons alike, how will a simple farm boy survive his own contorted destiny?

This is the story of a seemingly-simple world gone mad, and the reality that every action, no matter how apparently benign, can serve to unravel terrifying truths. This is the story of Aleksei Drago, farmer, Hunter, and so much more.

Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | Google Play | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

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Giveaway

Nicholas McIntire is giving away two $20 Amazon gift cards with this tour – enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47154/?

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Excerpt

Henry spent the rest of the day watching his son closely. Something was undeniably troubling him, but until Aleksei decided to open up to him there was nothing he could do.

“He’ll tell you in his own time, Henry.” he muttered under his breath.

So he waited. Every now and then he would engage his son in conversation, but every time he thought Aleksei might be on the brink of telling him something, the conversation fled to some superficial topic. Did he think it would rain by Market Day? Who did he think would bring the biggest pig to the Harvest Festival? Did he think Mother Margareta would come to bless their fields before the first frost?

Henry answered each question as though it was the direction he meant to steer the conversation, and refused to allow his frustration to surface. But by the end of the evening, he was no closer to understanding his son’s troubles than he’d been that morning.

Finally Aleksei rose from his seat before the fire, put his book away, and went to bed. Henry watched him go, more troubled than ever. The boy had never gone to bed without a word before. He always had some last comment to make, even if it was just to wonder at the next day’s activities.

Henry sat before the dying embers of the fire well into the night, thinking. He didn’t remember falling asleep, so when the voice woke him his eyes started open.

Hello, Henry.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings.

Gone was the heat of the hearth, the comfort of his chair. Instead he stood in an enveloping fog of shimmering gold.

He could see no one.

“Where am I?” Henry demanded.

A dream, Henry. This is merely an illusion. I apologize that I cannot offer you more comfortable surroundings at the moment.

“Who are you?” Henry called, feeling a touch foolish, shouting at phantoms.

His question went unanswered.

Henry, I’ve come to ask a favor.

“Who are you?” Henry repeated flatly.

There was a moment of hesitation before the voice responded. A man much like yourself, Henry Drago. One who only wants what’s best for your son.

“Speak then.”

When the favor was uttered, Henry blinked in confusion. A thousand questions bubbled to the surface, yet he found that he only possessed the strength to ask one.

“Why?” he choked, surprised by the weakness in his own voice.

The air before his face shimmered and distorted, as though he were looking through intense heat. Slowly, images formed. Images of Aleksei. An Aleksei he didn't recognize.

“Why are you showing me this?” Henry managed.

Because I want you to see what your son could become. The man he could be, if you’d only let him. If you just do as I say.

“I don’t trust you.” Henry barked back. “I can’t even see your face.”

Another image shimmered into being. A man, though Henry saw nothing remarkable about him. The man leaned forward and whispered in his ear, and Henry heard the unmistakable ring of truth.

In that moment he thought he might have preferred a dagger to the heart. It would have been far less painful to simply die at the end of a highwayman’s blade than to agree to this. Either way, he would lose the most precious thing he had.

“Bargain struck.” Henry whispered bitterly, a tear winding its way down his cheek.

You’re doing your son a great service, Henry Drago.

The man even sounded earnest.

Henry started to say something, but even as he opened his mouth, darkness swirled around him. He slipped back into the empty chasms of sleep.

#

Morning greeted Aleksei gently, rousing him from a dreamless oblivion. It had taken him hours to finally find some rest, and his relief was immeasurable when he woke without encountering the specter of the green-eyed man. His wish had been granted. The man was gone.

He made his way down the narrow stairway and walked into the kitchen, frowning at what greeted him. Their rough wooden table was laid out with provisions for what Aleksei could only guess was a journey.

But a journey where? His father hadn’t said anything about travel. There was still wood to chop and hay to store. The first snow might be weeks away, but there was no telling when the winds would usher in the chill of Northern air. Working outside in the cold was not something he, nor any farmer, relished.

“I see you’re up.” Henry said from behind. Aleksei jumped.

He turned, “Da, where are we going? I thought we were going to finish the hay this morning.”

His father shook his head and smiled, though Aleksei caught the deep sadness in Henry’s eyes. “We aren’t going anywhere, Son. You are.”

Aleksei frowned, “Me? But I thought—”

His father tried to hold the smile, but it was forced, “You’re needed, Son. In the North.”

Aleksei thought his heart would stop. He forgot to breathe. He could hardly process what his father had just said.

You know the truth he speaks, Aleksei.

Aleksei fought back a sob of frustration. He thought he’d freed himself of the damned voice, but now he knew the truth. He would never be free from it. It would hound him until the end of his days, or until it drove him mad, whichever came first.

Or until you simply do as I ask.

“Why?” he finally managed.

His father looked out the kitchen window, and Aleksei followed his gaze. Dash waited patiently outside, a saddle fitted snugly about his muscular frame.

“Because you’re needed, Son. It’s the only answer I can give you.”

“I’m not needed here, Da? Don’t you need me?”

Henry bit back the pain in his voice, “You are more of a help than I can say, Aleksei, and I love you dearly. But no, I don’t need you. Not like this. If you stayed here, you’d be wasting something…extraordinary. And honestly, I think you’d know it too. They need you in the North, Son. And their need is much more important than mine.”

Aleksei stood there, stunned by what his father was saying to him. And then the questions came pouring forth. What did Henry mean by ‘extraordinary’? What had his father learned? What was still being kept from him?

“And I’m sorry I can’t give you the answers you want, Son. But I think you know who can. Find him.”

“But how can I….” Aleksei began, fighting back the tears springing into his eyes.

“You’re strong, Aleksei. You’ve always been strong. That won’t fail you now.”

Henry swallowed back his own tears and tried to smile again, “Now you’d better get on the road. The sooner you get beyond the Southern Plain, the better. You don’t want to be riding under the Harvest sun too long if you can help it.”

“But where am I going?” Aleksei cried, his voice breaking. It was happening too fast. His life was slipping through his fingers moment by moment and there was nothing he could do about it.

“North, Son. North. You’ll know where you’re headed as you get closer. That’s all I know to tell you.”

Aleksei looked into his father’s eyes and saw the sadness, the regret that burned within him. His father wanted to know just as badly as he, to know just what sort of place he was so blindly sending his son.

Finally, after a long silence, Aleksei nodded. “Alright, Da. If you want me to go, then I’ll go.”

“I’ll never want you to go, Son.” Henry whispered, his face contorting with pain. He had already lost his wife, and now he was losing his son, too. Aleksei would still be alive, but he would be so far away.

“But promise me something, Aleksei.”

Aleksei nodded, “Anything, Da."

“If you find this place and if it’s not what you want, what you need, promise me you’ll come back. Even if this isn’t what you want either, at least we can figure that out together.”

Aleksei finally allowed a tear to wind its way down his cheek, “I promise, Da.”

Henry stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around his son, hugging him as close as he could, as though any moment Aleksei might turn to mist and vanish forever. Henry stepped back and managed a sardonic smile. Aleksei might remain solid as stone, but surely enough he was about to vanish.

#

Henry didn’t watch his son ride away. In truth, he couldn’t bear it. As long as he’d never seen Aleksei leave he could always pretend the boy was out in the barn, or by the pond he’d swum in as a child. It was a good hour before Henry allowed himself to sit down in his chair and sob.

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Author Bio

Critically-acclaimed author Nicholas McIntire has been writing fantasy since he was 8 years old. The bones of the Archanium Codex were first created when he was 16, and in the past 20 years, he has taken that initially simple idea and crafted it into a fully realized world, finished the sequel, earned three degrees (one in Russian, Eastern European Studies, two in Nursing), and lived life to its fullest. Now writing full-time, Nicholas is ready for share is vision of the Archanium Codex, a 10 book series. The first book of the series being The Hunter's Gambit.

Nicholas, lives in Fort Worth, Texas, but writes in both Fort Worth and Fort Davis, TX, where his family has a small place situated at 5200 feet in the Davis Mountains - and, yes, Texas does have mountains.

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

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/NGMcIntire/

Author Twitter: @nickmcintire

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17088295.Nicholas_McIntire

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Nicholas-McIntire/e/B07X7D7CH6

 

Guest Review: Hide to Seek (London Lies #2) by C.F. White

Jackson Young has gone into hiding. Fighting to get his name cleared and his truth heard, he’s followed Fletcher Doherty to Ireland for a safe haven from those who want to silence his story.

As they work on Jackson's biography, their growing attraction gets harder to resist. Fletcher's made it clear though—their professional boundary isn't to be crossed, especially with so many loose threads from each of their pasts left hanging.

But as he learns more about the once coveted celebrity's rise to fame, and the manipulation and control that came with it, Fletcher finds it increasingly difficult to distance himself from their intimate moments. Lust fuelled attraction is easy to ignore, but an emotional connection is harder to deny.

Surrounded by Fletcher's meddling family, and ex boyfriends who still harbour feelings of being jilted, Jackson has to play the part of his lifetime. Can he prove that he does have talent and win Fletcher's heart as well as his trust?

And can he do it all before their idyllic hideaway is compromised?

*sad stars*

Reviewer: Annery

I’m sad to write this review.

C. F. White is a NTM author and I came to this series with high hopes. Even after my less than stellar experience with Fade to Blank, book 1 in the series (which you should definitely read first), I thought the author could turn it around. I was still feeling optimistic about 40% in and then all dreams were dashed.

After the events in book 1 Fletcher and Jax fled to Ireland, specifically to Fletcher’s family farm in Donegal. The idea is to hide out there and write Jax’s tell-all which clear his name of any wrongdoing and expose nefarious characters and deeds within the world of British celebrities. The descriptions of the natural beauty of the land, life on the farm, Fletcher’s family, and the animals were beautiful and evocative and gave me hope, but alas this isn’t a pastoral. The story is about Jax and Fletcher and sadly they’re the most uninteresting people on the planet and maybe a bit dimwitted to boot.

The same improbabilities from book 1 continue, Jax and Fletcher are still incapable of having a regular conversation, much less one where a journalist asks pertinent questions from a source or does any kind of research. Woodward and Bernstein they are not. Towards the end of this book, which also ends in a cliffhanger, some preposterous revelations are made meant to recast Jax & Fletcher’s relationship as other than insta. It would have been best if that was omitted. As for the villains? I don’t believe or understand them. They seem cartoonish at best and their plots bare more than a whiff of current conspiracy theories.

I won’t belabor this any longer. I can say this was not for me and that YMMV and leave it at that. My favorite character was Maggie and she’s a black lab.

Blog Tour: Starfall Ranch by California Dawes

Author California Dawes and A Novel Take PR visit on the Starfall Ranch blog tour! Learn more about the queer science fiction today!

Starfall Ranch by California Dawes


Series: Standalone

Release Date: October 26, 2019

Subgenre: Sci-fi Romance











Synopsis for Starfall Ranch:

Two women seeking refuge from trauma on an alien world meet in a storm under the unlikeliest circumstances. At the edge of the galaxy, under the apple boughs, can they reach out and take hold of their happily-ever-after?

Thisbe Vandergoss is a London socialite on the run from her controlling family. With all her assets frozen and her friends on Earth just as likely to sell her out than help her out, Thisbe signs up to be a mail-order bride on the lush moon world, Sirona.

Shiloh Kerridan left Earth five years ago, seeking to put a galaxy between herself and the people who hurt her. Shiloh has thrown herself into the creation and maintenance of Starfall Ranch, a cozy piece of farmland that boasts juicy apples and the best goats cheese on Sirona. She’s vowed never to let anyone in again, and she certainly has no patience for rich off-worlders who show up on her doorstep unexpectedly.

Especially when Thisbe shows up in the middle of a streak of bad luck: her fruit trees have succumbed to disastrous blight, her farm bots keep mysteriously malfunctioning, and a local mining company is breathing down her neck to parcel out her land. If Shiloh’s bad luck keeps up, she’ll have no choice but to sell her beloved farm and sanctuary. Thisbe is determined she won’t let that happen, but will Shiloh open her heart enough to trust again?

Order here:

Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZMR2PT3

Powell’s:
https://www.powells.com/book/-9781702848992

Indiebound:
https://www.indiebound.org/book/9781702848992

Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/993918

Excerpt

Thisbe slipped on a pair of sunglasses and got back in her car. She noticed a shopping bag in the back seat, carelessly left there from a lunchtime retail therapy session two days prior. She pulled the bag into her lap and examined her purchases: some fine jewelry, a small fortune in makeup, and a pair of vibrant red and teal leather stiletto shoes.

Thisbe bit her lip and pushed her a strand of curls out of her eyes. She loved those shoes, and she hadn’t even had a chance to wear them out on the town yet. They were dinosaur leather, made from authentic, lab-grown agilisaurus flesh. The stilettos (which were utterly glorious) had been a limited-edition design, exclusive to an invite-only pre-order mailing list, and Thisbe was one of only a hundred lucky women in London who'd managed to snag a pair. Still, desperate times...

She pulled a U-turn back onto the road and headed for the shop at a high-end mall where she had picked up her pre-order. The sales rep at the returns counter gave her a massive side-eye of disbelief when she opened the box.

“You do know that these shoes are made from dinosaurs?” She asked, not daring to touch the treasures until she was certain Thisbe wasn't going to change her mind.

Thisbe pouted as though this were all the universe's fault. Which, if her parents were correct about their central role in the universe, it kind of was.

“Can you believe they don't fit? I think this pair must have been mismarked or something. This should be my size, but it feels about two sizes too small for my poor toes.”

“If it were me, I'd just cut my toes off,” the rep laughed. Thisbe laughed with her.

“If only. I don't suppose there's a chance of an exchange?” She did her best to look hopeful, knowing full well there wasn't a chance in any dimension of there being a spare pair just lying around for exchange.

“Afraid not, love. Do you want the sale back on the card you used?”

“Cash is fine,” Thisbe said quickly.

She pocketed the fifteen thousand in cash and returned the jewelry and makeup in much the same way. By the time she got back to her car, she had just under thirty thousand pounds in her pocket. Enough to lay low and figure out her next move, at the very least. But she still had a few more errands to run.



About the author:

California Dawes is a lover of romance, fantasy, mystery, and the allure of the open road. Her romances are always set in queernorm worlds where complex characters explore the depths of their desires, pursue the truth of their hearts, and sometimes fight some demons along the way.

She lives in the San Francisco area with two highly opinionated cats and the sweetest dog in the universe. When she's not writing swoon-worthy romances, California enjoys RPGs, running, road trips, and good coffee shops.


Links:
Website: http://www.californiadawes.com
Twitter: @inkyfirelight
Newsletter sign up: https://mailchi.mp/2bf0983d84d7/californiadawes
Instagram: @inkyfirelight
Tumblr: @inkyfirelight

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Christmas Lights (Owatonna #4) by RJ Scott & V.L. Locey

Join authors RJ Scott and V.L. Locey, along with Signal Boost Promotions,as they promote the release of holiday novella, Christmas Lights (Owatonna #4)! Find out more about the latest from the hockey series and enter in the $10 Amazon gift card giveaway!

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Length: 26,000 words approx.

Cover Design: Meredith Russell

Owatonna U Series

Book #1 - Ryker - Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Book #2 - Scott - Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Blurb

Under the Christmas lights strung outside a snowy Minnesota cabin, Ryker and Jacob face a future where nothing will be the same again.



Fortunate timing means that Ryker and Jacob can spend a few days together over Christmas in a cabin on the family farm. What’s better is that Scott and Ben are coming as well, with Hayne and Ethan in tow. Ryker can’t imagine a better way to spend time with the man he loves, and the friends he misses, and somehow he knows that this Christmas will be the best one ever. Hockey on a frozen pond, kisses under Christmas lights, and sharing time with Jacob are the best gifts he could ever receive.



Long distance relationships are brutal, Jacob can attest to that fact. So, when Ryker gets a few days off over the Raptors’ Christmas break, the hard-working Minnesota farmer is beyond thrilled. When they find out that their buddies from Owatonna U. are making the trip as well, the holidays are looking to be just about perfect. Jacob has a question for Ryker burning in his heart, and he isn’t asking for much—just a few fun-filled days with old friends and a yes from the man of his dreams.

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.



RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.



The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.



She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below:

Email RJ rj@rjscott.co.uk | Facebook | Twitter | BookBub | Instagram | Pinterest

USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.



V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.



When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.

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