Showing posts with label JMS Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label JMS Books. Show all posts

Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Impossible Childhood of My Desires by Rick R. Reed


 

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Impossible Childhood of My Desires

Author: Rick R. Reed

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Release Date: September 24, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance 

Themes: Transgender Awakening and Acceptance, long-term relationship facing a challenge

Heat Rating: 2 flames      

Length: 60 000 words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links 

JMS Books  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

“Well, isn't queer adulthood, if one is lucky, having the impossible childhood of your desires?”

― Joss Lake, Future Feeling

Blurb

Carl Young’s biggest secret: he’s always felt like Cara Young. Through the years, he acknowledged his authentic female self in ways he kept hidden in the shadows. The makeup, the dresses, the shoes -- all of them represented his most longed-for desires and his deepest shame.

When Carl’s husband Roberto comes home early from work to discover Cara in her wig, makeup, dress, and high heels, he’s shocked. Who is this person he married decades ago? He flees, leaving their home in Chicago for the obliviousness of the sunny skies of Southern California.

Cara begins making tentative steps into a world she imagined would always remain secret. She ventures out, dressing the only way she feels whole. Publicly claiming her identity, she’s terrified, but also filled with joy when she discovers there are others like her, people who will welcome her with open arms and support.

But for both Roberto and Cara, their long-term and love-filled marriage is now a challenge with which they both must reckon. Does her transition mean following separate paths? Or forging a new one ... together?

Excerpt 

He tried to hold his discomfort and shivering in abeyance as he climbed the boulders at the north end of the beach and sat down on the cold and wet rock. He wished he’d worn a warmer coat because he longed to stay here a while, in the quiet, the only sound the rhythmic pull and push of the waves against the shore. There was something mesmerizing about watching the flakes drift down, disappearing into the pewter-colored water. Visibility was nil, but he could see the sun above as a white orb, a glow amidst the overcast skies.

“You know, it’s all right.”

The voice came to him more through his head than his ears. He turned.

Sitting next to him was his mother. Carl wasn’t surprised.

She was as she appeared when he was a little boy -- a beautiful woman whose Sicilian heritage endowed her with the most penetrating green eyes and the creamiest olive complexion. “And the biggest nose,” she’d probably add, laughing. Staring out at the waves, her face was unlined, her hair glossy, dark, curling around her face. She wore a mouton coat he’d remembered from his childhood. Once upon a time, he’d slip into her closet and don the coat; it was unbelievably soft and warm. Its satin lining was a wonderful contrast to the plushness of the fur. He could smell his mother’s perfume and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke on the coat.

It was almost like being given a hug from her.

“What’s all right?” he asked, almost as if talking to his younger -- and dead -- mother on a beach in the middle of a blizzard was the most normal thing in the world. “The fact that you lost your battle with cancer?” The tears welling in his eyes worried him because he feared they’d freeze. “Because, Mom, I can tell you, that is not all right.” He wiped wet snow from his cheeks. “What will I do without you? Who will I call on Sundays? Who will care about what happens to me? Who will listen now? How will I feel the hole left in your absence?”

He had a lot of questions.

She waved his concerns away. Her nails were long, blood red, just as they’d been when she was young. She stopped caring as she got older and kept them clipped short, no polish. “Don’t be so dramatic. You always were. I was old, honey. And the cancer they said they got all of?” She chuckled. “They were wrong.” She shrugged. “It happens. The big C stands for cancer, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, it also stands for cunning, because it is. It comes down to a fight for survival. I take comfort in the fact that even though the big C won the battle, I won the war.” She smiled, looking Carl in the eye. “No more host. That cancer just lost his job.”

They sat silently for a long time. Carl wondered if he’d died and now they were in some sort of afterlife. It was quiet enough. The still made it seem as though they were the only two people on the planet.

“Well, what did you mean then? What’s all right?”

She turned and reached out her hands, not quite reaching his cheeks. He wondered if she was capable of touch or if her hands would reach him as a cold gust. “You. You’re all right. Just as you are. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. I wish I had told you this when you were little and I caught you wearing my clothes or makeup.” She shrugged. “Hindsight. But Carl, you’re okay and you will be okay. Don’t let anyone stop you.”

“From what?”

“From being exactly who you are.”

Carl closed his eyes and that caused the tears to fall at last. They made him colder, but they made him human.

When he opened his eyes again, he was alone on the beach.

About the Author 

Rick R. Reed is an award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction. He is a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Entertainment Weekly has described his work as “heartrending and sensitive.” Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” 

 Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA, with his husband, Bruce, and their two rescue dogs, Kodi and Joaquin. 

Find him at www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com.

Email: rickrreedbooks@gmail.com

Social Media Links

Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Blog 

Amazon Author  |  BookBub   

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

your choice of ebook from the author's backlist.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Bobby Ray Breaks the Universe by Rob Rosen


 

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Bobby Ray Breaks the Universe

Author: Rob Rosen

Publisher: JMS Books

Release Date: September 10, 2022

Genre:  Paranormal M/M Romance, Comedy Romance, Mystery/Suspense

Tropes:  Enemies to lovers

Themes:  Emotional growth

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 59 000 words/171 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Good vs. evil, angels vs. demons, and rednecks running wild across the Middle East. What could go wrong?

Blurb

What happens when a hunky demon visits you and commands you to break all ten commandments? Or when a handsome angel orders you to do the opposite? And what if you’re Bobby Ray, and you’ve already broken nine of the ten, and thou shalt not kill is a close brick away, and the demon has tacked on a cushy afterlife in hell as a reward? Decisions, decisions. And poor Bobby Ray has never been good at one decision, let alone multiple ones. Broke, divorced, and pretty darn miserable, does he do what’s right or what’s easy? 

In this darkly comical romantic adventure, Bobby Ray, with the help of numerous friends and just as many enemies, one being his ex-husband, travels from Georgia to Israel and ultimately across Egypt and the Gaza Strip in search of the one clue that will hopefully save them all, and possibly the entire world. Will good win out over evil, love over hate? Or will Bobby Ray ultimately break the universe? 

Good vs. evil, angels vs. demons, and rednecks running wild across the Middle East. What could go wrong?

 Excerpt 

As I stood over the sleeping man, brick in hand, heart beating a rhythmic drum solo in my chest, a brilliant flash of white light punched me straight in the face. “What the f --” 

“Bobby Ray!” boomed the voice, seemingly from all directions. “Though shalt not kill!” 

“Well, not yet, anyway,” I replied. “Wait just another minute.” I tried swatting the blinding light away, but, well, it was light, so swatting didn’t seem to do the trick. “That thing got a switch?” I didn’t know who I was talking to. I guessed this was all my subconscious, some sort of guilt trip I was laying on myself for killing my neighbor Tom. Or trying to. But with my eyes watering something awful, I was having a bit of a hard time of it. Maybe I shouldn’t have had the bourbon beforehand. Or finished the bottle. And smoked a joint to calm my nerves. But see, I liked Tom. Right on up until I found out that he was sleeping with my husband, I liked him. Or, okay, to be fair, my ex-husband, but still. 

“Bobby Ray!” again boomed the voice, the floor beneath me suddenly rolling like a wave. “Though shalt not kill!” 

Funnily enough, the voice didn’t sound like mine. I’d have thought my subconscious would’ve sounded something like me, but nope, not even close. Also, Tom wasn’t moving. And the voice was fucking loud, and the waving floor was still waving, and the bed was waving right along with it, but Tom was still lying there snoring. Ambien, I figured. Had to be. In any case, I set the brick down next to him and wiped my eyes with my sleeve. Soon as I did that, the lights went out in Georgia -- Georgia being where we were at the time and not simply the lyrics to a catchy old song. 

“What the f --” I repeated as my eyes focused on the apparent source of the booming voice. “Shouldn’t have mixed the bourbon and the pot.” I wiped at my peepers again. And again. Only, the angel floating in front of me with his massive wings spread out and a sort of pale glow all around him wasn’t blinking away as I had hoped. “I bet that pot was laced with something. Shouldn’t have bought it off that stranger at the bar. That was my first mistake.” 

The angel grinned. As grins went, this was one was quite, well, angelic. Duh, I suppose. “It doesn’t even break the top one hundred mistakes you’ve made, Bobby Ray.” 

I shrugged. “Yeah, it hasn’t been a good year for me.” Understatement. Of the gross variety. 

The angel folded his wings and stepped a foot closer to me as just his toes touched the ground. He was tall, almost seven feet, if I had to take a guess. Handsome as all get out, too. Smooth as alabaster and naked as the day he was born. Though I was guessing he hadn’t ever really been born, what with him being an angel and all. Either that or I was hallucinating. Or I was dreaming. I was betting on one of those last two. 

“It hasn’t been a good life, either, Bobby Ray.” 

And still, I shrugged. Or maybe I hadn’t stopped from the previous time. “I blame my parents for that.” 

The angel shook his head. “Honor thy father and thy mother, Bobby Ray.” 

I snickered. “Have you met the Beauregards? Flies keep their distance. Too shitty, even for them.” I glanced at the brick. I figured I could take this guy if need be. He didn’t look like the fighting type. Flying, sure, but not fighting. 

“The Lord said to honor thy father and thy mother, Bobby Ray, and so honor you must.” 

I sighed. Tom was still fast asleep. Probably dreaming of Matty, my ex. 

“Seems kind of a waste of time to honor the likes of them,” I told the angel. “They wouldn’t even appreciate it. Don’t much like that I’m gay, but honoring sounds sorts of pansy-ass. Their words, not mine.” And those were nice words in comparison to their usual words. 

The angel moved a step closer, a step closer still, tippy toes dragging the floor. He was now standing directly in front of me -- or maybe it was closer to hovering, really -- leaning down, in. I stared into eyes blue as the heavens. Go figure. It was, in fact, a bit like looking into eternity itself. “Your parents sound delightful, but be that as it may --” 

I held up my hand. “I get it, I get it. Honor. Don’t kill. Blah, blah, blah.” I squinted up at him. “You visit everyone who’s about to break a commandment? Because I’d have thought we would’ve met a hell of a lot sooner than now.” 

The angel straightened his back and moved an inch in reserve. Up until that moment, he looked, I don’t know, sort of at peace. All angelic looking. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. But just for a second, I could’ve sworn I saw a flinch of pain. Maybe it was my choice of words. Or word. Hell, I mean. 

“I --” he said, but suddenly got cut off. 

No, there wasn’t a bright light again. I was glad for that. My eyes were still watering from the first one. This time, there was a puff of foul-smelling smoke, very fire and brimstone stinking. I mean, I guess. Not like I’d smelled brimstone before. Not that I even knew what brimstone was. In any case, I coughed, rubbed at my nose as the black cloud disappeared to reveal what I assumed was a demon. I mean, the guy was red all over and had horns protruding a good foot from his temples, so demon was probably a good guess, as guesses went. Plus, I already had an angel, so a demon seemed logical. As much as anything did right about then, I mean.

About the Author 

Rob Rosen is the author of the award-winning novels Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava, Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort, Fate, Midlife Crisis, Fierce, And God Belched, Mary, Queen of Scotch, Ted of the d’Urbervilles, Sort of Dead, and Genie in a Vodka Bottle, and editor of the anthologies Lust in Time, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015, and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volumes 1, 2, 3 and 4.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win 

an ebook copy of Bobby Ray Breaks the Universe

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Genie in a Vodka Bottle by Rob Rosen


Author Rob Rosen and Gay Book Promotions visit with the Genie in a Vodka Bottle release blitz! Read more about the speculative romance and enter in the giveaway!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Genie in a Vodka Bottle

Author: Rob Rosen

Publisher: JMS Books

Release Date: November 6, 2021

Genre: Speculative M/M Romance, Mystery, Adventure

Tropes: Genie, Enemy to Friend, Magic

Themes: Searching for love, forgiveness

Heat Rating:  4 flames   

Length:  139 pages/56 000 words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

Barnes & Noble  |  Kobo  |  Google Play

A funny, frisky, and frequently heart-pounding genie romance and adventure novel!

Blurb

Mysterious forces are at play when Paul’s vacation to Spain unexpectedly detours to Gibraltar and then Morocco, to a vodka bottle in a hole in the wall bar, to a handsome genie with a slew of secrets, plus almost limitless powers, virtually no memory, and a keen desire to be freed from his curse. Along the way, Paul is reunited with his ex-lover and the genie’s previous master as fate draws them ever deeper into a murky, dangerous past.

On our heroes travel, from the frigid north of Russia to a magic carpet ride across China, ultimately finding themselves in the deserts of ancient Jordan. Here, they encounter another of the genie’s previous masters and a power far greater than they could’ve ever imagined, all within a massive temple carved into a mountainside. Can our intrepid foursome uncover the truth before the curse takes them all and possibly the entire world down? Will love win out in the end? Or is the genie forever doomed to a life foretold in fairy tales?

In this funny, frisky, and frequently heart-pounding adventure, only one thing is for certain: magic can happen even without three wishes.

Excerpt 

The bottle was still in my hand. I reached for the cork. I gave it a pull. It didn’t budge. I pulled again, harder this time. Nope, nothing. That cork must’ve been in there a long, long time, I figured. I stood up, placed the bottle between my knees, wiped the sweat from my palms and grabbed on tightly to the cork. Then, seeing as where I was, grunted, “Open sesame,” and gave one final, massive yank.

POP went the cork.

“Oh fuck,” went I.

I mean sure, the bottle was open, but, um, well, time was suddenly standing still. Like totally still. Nothing was moving, not the fans, the waitress, not Omar, who was pouring a drink that was suspended in midair. Though me, yeah, me I was moving. Or least my heart was. Super-fast, in fact. Energizer Bunny fast.

“Oh fuck,” went I, yet again.

Because now the vodka bottle was pouring, only, it wasn’t pouring vodka. And the pouring wasn’t obeying the laws of gravity because what was being poured went out and up as opposed down and down some more. Plus, the vodka bottle should have been pouring liquid but appeared to be pouring gas, a massive white cloud of it tinged with swirls of various shades of blue and, if I wasn’t mistaken, which I wasn’t, lightning. I mean, I knew lightning when I saw it, it’s just I’d never seen it being poured from a vodka bottle before.

The cloud spread, the blue becoming purple, then red, then all the colors of the rainbow at once. It looked like what you saw in an oil slick, greasy and blending and bleeding. And then the room I was in was all cloud, and it was just me in the cloud, me and the vodka bottle and the cloud of smoke and lightning and rainbow. The hairs on my neck stood on end as I tried to take it all in, but how do you take in a cloud, especially when it’s all around you, choking you, engulfing you completely as if it were a living, breathing thing? And you could feel it, too. The power of it.

“Oh fuck,” went I for the third time. Because now I was not alone in the cloud, and the eyes that had been staring back at me from the label on the bottle were no longer on the bottle and were no longer the same eyes. And the face on the bottle had a body, a different body, a new body, and the body was big, and the body was torso on top and cloudy solidness down below, and the face was above mine, and the eyes were staring down upon me, boring through me, piercing what felt like my very soul. Or maybe that was me being a bit overdramatic, but how can you not be overdramatic at a time such as that?

“Master,” boomed the voice that erupted forth from the mouth in the face, the cloud all at once swept from the still-stagnant room. The half torso, half solid cloud still floated above me, still churning in color and lightning and a slight tremble of thunder that reminded me of our drive through Spain, me and Omar number two.

“Paul,” I managed to squeak out.

The face tilted ever so slightly. “Paul? What is a Paul? I do not know this word.” The voice again boomed, rattled my bones, shook the fillings in my mouth. The voice was deep as the ocean, heavy as a boulder, pressing down upon me with each vowel and syllable that was uttered.

“Paul,” I said, sitting back down in my chair. Or falling back down in my chair. Probably the latter. “That is my name. Paul.”

The cloud-man craned down, the eyes barely a foot away. “Paul,” came the voice in a whoosh that washed over me like a tidal wave, the exhale smelling of spices and earth and incense. If you bottled it, it’d sell well. I had a bottle in hand, but, like the room around me, I was sort of also frozen to the spot, and so bottling, at least for the time being, seemed out of the question. “You have freed me, Master Paul.”

I blinked. He did not. He had eyes the color of fresh moss, skin the color of The Rock back in Gibraltar, perhaps a shade darker. He was shirtless, dense with smooth muscle from chest to arms to hands to fingers. And despite the obvious power of him, he looked young, my age, give or take. And as for the cloud below him, it swirled like a cyclone, shooting off sparks as he hovered there. He was beautiful. He was fearsome. I needed to pee. Badly.

About the Author 

Rob Rosen is the author of the award-winning novels Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava, Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort, Fate, Midlife Crisis, Fierce, And God Belched, Mary, Queen of Scotch, Ted of the d’Urbervilles, Sort of Dead, and Genie in a Vodka Bottle, and editor of the anthologies Lust in Time, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015, and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volumes 1, 2, 3 and 4.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

an ebook copy of Genie in a Vodka Bottle

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Let Your Heart Smile by JB Buell


Author J.B. Buell and Gay Book Promotions celebrate new JMS Books release, Let Your Heart Smile! Discover more about the circus themed friends to lovers romance and enter in the giveaway to win your own eBook copy!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Let Your Heart Smile 

Author: JB Buell

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: JM Snyder/JMS Books 

Release Date: July 31, 2021 

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Themes: Hurt/comfort, reunited, pining, happy ending, disability, interracial relationship, different languages, travelling circus, clowns.

Heat Rating:  1 flame   

Length: 15 015 words

It is a standalone story with no cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

JMS Books  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Who can make this sad clown smile again?

Blurb

Niki Georgiev lives and works in Draganov's Flying circus as a disabled clown. Each day he paints a smile onto his face, though he hasn't felt like smiling for some time.

When the circus gets a new act in, flashy stunt bike riders, Niki gets a surprise. His childhood friend Conner Flinn is one of the riders and has returned to the circus a big star.

Niki doesn't expect Conner to remember him, much less want to spend time with him as he's just one of the clowns.

But not only does Conner notice Niki, he also asks him to join his act. Will Niki finally have a reason to smile?

Excerpt 

Niki turned around to see it was Conner, flanked by two more people. His stunt team, most likely, as they were all in costume.

The pretty Black woman with curly hair on Conner's right was in a red catsuit with a zip up front, and white stars down her arms and legs. The cute Black guy on Conner's left was in a similar suit of blue and white stars, with a deep V-cut on the chest held together by see-through mesh to show off pecs and abs.

And Conner, his suit had the same deep V-cut with the see-through panel, showing off some serious muscle definition there. Niki's eyes didn't know where to land. He noticed that Conner's costume was red, white, and blue like the American flag.

"Niki," Conner said, gesturing at his companions, "this is Jesse, and Dwight. Guys, this is Niki."

"Nice to finally meet you," Jesse said, offering out her hand. "Conner hasn't shut up about you since we got here."

Niki was mildly surprised, but he shook hands with her, forever thankful he had his right arm so he didn't have to offer the wrong hand in social situations.

"Hey, man, how's it going," Dwight said, offering his hand next. "Looking forward to hearing any embarrassing stories you got about Conner."

Niki smiled wickedly. "Oh, there's plenty of those. Now please tell me you guys wear protective gear when you ride?"

This had them smiling and Dwight pointing a finger at Conner. "I told you people would ask!" Dwight said.

"We do, though," Conner replied. "Yeah, don't worry, Niki, we got the proper bike leathers to put on, and helmets of course."

"Well, good," Niki said, not quite able to let go of his old health and safety habits. "Make sure you wear them."

"We will," Jesse assured him. "We just came out to do some promo so we put on our pretty gear."

He glanced between Conner and Dwight, then gestured at their chests. "You should cover up all those rippling muscles, there's kids out here, y'know."

He was only teasing. All the big acts wore revealing Spandex, that was half the attraction.

Conner and Dwight found his joke highly amusing and laughed about it.

"This is why I have a zip," Jesse said, tugging the zipper on her chest. "Zip it down a bit for promo, and zip it up again later when there's kids about. It's so practical."

"Yeah." Dwight laughed. "And you can always tell if Jesse likes someone when the zipper comes down a little more while she's talking to them."

Jesse swatted him on the arm as she laughed. "Stop giving away all my secrets, man."

"Uh, why don't you guys go on ahead," Conner said to them. "I'll catch you up in a minute."

"Sure, Flinn." Dwight waggled his eyebrows at Conner, as Jesse pushed him away.

"C'mon, Dwight," she said, tugging Dwight with her. "It was great meeting you!" she said to Niki as they left.

"You, too," Niki replied, then looked at Conner. "What's wrong?"

"Hm?" Conner blinked in confusion. "Nothing's wrong. Why?"

"Oh. I thought something was wrong?"

"No?" Conner broke into a grin. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," Niki said, as a blush broke out over his face. Never had he been so thankful for his thick clown make-up.

"Do you want to hang out between shows tonight?" Conner asked.

"Um, sure."

"Great!" Conner grinned at him. "I'll come find you. Will you be in this outfit?"

"Yes," Niki said, feeling shy all over again. "I'm Cho-cho the clown now."

"I like this bit," Conner said, reaching out to touch the ruffle around Niki's neck. "You look like that little clown doll my mom used to collect."

"Pierrot," Niki said. "Yeah, that's the idea."

"It's cute." Conner smiled. "You make a cute clown."

An approaching parent with a kid interrupted them, and Conner took his cue to leave. He waved to the little kid as he walked by. He really did look amazing in that figure hugging costume.

Niki noticed the mom gape after Conner's retreating form, and he had to press his lips together so he didn't smile.

Me, too, lady, he thought.

About the Author 

J.B. Buell is a non binary writer (they/them) of m/m romance and gay rom com stories. They are a cat person, and can’t decide if they’re more of a coffee or tea person but is quite happy to drink both.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Twitter

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

an ebook copy of Let Your Heart Smile.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Book Blast + Giveaway: The Dead Don't Lie (Dead Generations #1) by Anne Russo


Author Anne Russo and Gay Book Promotions host a book blast for JMS Books contemporary romantic suspense, The Dead Don't Lie (Dead Generations #1)! Read more about the first in the series and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway!
 

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Dead Don't Lie

Author: Anne Russo

Publisher: JMS Books 

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs 

Release Date: 3/13/21

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Action-Adventure

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Love, Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Found Families

Themes: Death & Dying, Betrayal, Love & Sacrifice, Family, Guilt & Loss 

Heat Rating: 4 flames  

Length: 75 000 words/250 pages

This is the first book in a series and features an unresolved ending/cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |   Apple

Barnes & Noble  |  Bookstrand  |  Google Play

Kobo  |  Scribd  |  Smashwords

Blurb

While young doctor Adam Morrow resigns himself to an uninformed existence, world-weary assassin Ian Abbott struggles with a life he never asked for. When the two strangers meet by chance, the attraction is immediate. And deadly, as Adam walks in on Ian in the middle of a hit.

The situation spirals out of control once Ian discovers he and Adam share a connection far more profound than either imagined. Shocked by the discovery, Ian makes the hasty decision to kidnap him.

Overnight Adam is torn from his promising career and a family who believes him dead. Things go from bad to worse when he finds himself reunited with a mother he never knew who is now head of a covert and shadowy group of killers for hire. Forced into joining their ranks, with Ian as his reluctant trainer and handler, Adam is given a series of impossible tasks to complete.

To survive, he must fight with everything he has to keep his life, his sanity, and his very soul from being swept up in a violent and chaotic world even as he battles his unwanted and complicated feelings for Ian.

For his part, Ian, a man with dark secrets of his own, has a past he isn't ready to share with Adam even as the other man worms into his life in more ways than one. The two grow closer and lines blur -- between good and evil, friend or foe, enemy or lover. But something, or someone, plots against them, determined to do everything in their power to keep them apart. Even if it means destroying them both.

Trigger Warning: This story contains a brief scene of sexual assault and features an unresolved ending/cliffhanger.

Excerpt 

Assignment completed, Ian glanced down at his coat, noticing a few questionable stains even black couldn’t hide. Sighing, he stepped into the adjacent bathroom for a quick wash. He was cleaning off the excess blood splatter when he heard the door open. He stopped and listened as a curious voice called out, “Hello?”

Ian reached for his handgun, quiet as he slid it into his hand. He edged forward, waiting for his visitor to discover Mr. Mallory was no longer among the living. Ian didn’t have long to wait.

“Jesus Christ,” the visitor swore, taking several steps backward where Ian waited in the shadows. Once he was close enough, Ian pressed the gun's muzzle into the back of his head, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Even in the darkened room, Ian knew he looked familiar. “Turn around.”

Slowly, the man turned toward him, shaking. Ian didn’t miss the shock of recognition when he saw who held him at gunpoint.

“Yeah, I remember you too. This is unfortunate,” Ian remarked and meant it. He didn’t relish putting a bullet right between those pretty eyes, but he’d seen his face. Not once. But twice now. And, unfortunately, he’d have to die for it.

“Wait,” the young doctor urged, his hands in the air. “You don’t have to shoot me.”

No crying. No begging. A statement. The doctor even met Ian’s eye when he said it. Ian couldn’t help but admire this guy's guts. A shame he had to kill him, but he didn’t have a choice. His finger twitched on the trigger.

“I’m afraid I do,” Ian answered, glancing at his name tag. “Dr. Adam Morrow,” he whispered under his breath, the name hitting like a sucker punch to the gut. “Your name is Adam Morrow?”

“Yeah, that’s my -- why?”

Ian wasn’t listening, rendered speechless as he studied the man. Pieces were clicking together in a hail of memories, memories he fought for years to keep hidden. Now they came rising to the surface one by one, swifter than he could recall them. All tied to the image of a child’s face. A child whose cheerful grin and name, Adam Morrow, had haunted him for the last fourteen years.

Ian snapped into the present. He charged forth, seizing him by the arm. Adam tried to shake him off as he propelled him toward the windows. Meager light from outside street lamps was enough to spy the lingering traces of that boy. One whose existence itself had been a terrible mystery he’d never wanted to delve too deep into, terrified of the answer awaiting him on the other side.

“Look at me!” he ordered, pressing the muzzle under Adam’s chin.

Adam hesitated but didn’t have much say so with a gun buried in his throat. One glance and the truth slammed into Ian like a bolt of lightning. A sweeping recognition. His eyes told him the entire story in an instant. They were remarkable, dark green, and flecked with gold, memorable --her eyes. There was no way he’d be able to kill him. Not now. The implications of his discovery growing as they sized up the other, each of them unsure what to do next.

“Who the hell are you?” Adam asked, low and shaky.

“Who the hell are you?” Ian countered.

About the Author


Anne makes her home in Connecticut with her wonderful and ever-so-patient partner. A lifelong reader, writer, and curious student, Anne hopes to create exciting multi-dimensional characters and worlds but with a queer sensibility. The Dead Don’t Lie is the first book in the Dead Generations series and her first novel.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Flowers Under My Pillow by Nell Iris


Author Nell Iris and Gay Book Promotions host today's release blitz for Flowers Under My Pillow from JMS Books! Discover more about the contemporary romance and enter in the backlist giveaway!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Flowers Under My Pillow

Author: Nell Iris

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Release Date: June 26, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope: Soul mates

Themes: Older characters (40+), instant connection, meet cute 

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:  17 477 words

It is a standalone story

Goodreads

Buy Links 

JMS Books  |  Universal Link 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

Blurb

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

For thirty years, Frode’s had the same dream. Every Midsummer’s Eve since he was a kid accompanying his sister to pick flowers to put under his pillow, he’s dreamed of the same man. A dream he never shares with anyone, that makes him wish for impossible things…like true love.

“It’s you.”

Then one Midsummer’s Eve, the man of Frode’s dreams stands before him in the flesh. Both men recognize each other despite never having met in real life. Both men are instantly drawn to each other and want to know more.

“Who are you, Viljar? Are you even real?”

Their questions are many but do the whys and the hows matter? Or should they allow the Midsummer magic that brought them together to lead the way into each other’s arms? Into each other’s hearts?

Traditional Swedish folklore tells you that if you pick seven kinds of flowers in silence and put them under your pillow on Midsummer’s Eve, you’ll dream of the man you’ll marry.

Excerpt

When I look around to take in my surroundings, I realize my feet have carried me to the cottage without me noticing, and something catches my attention on the lawn on the other side of the fence.

A closer look reveals a tripod with a big, professional-looking camera attached on top. And underneath it, a man lies on his back, surrounded by a starry sky of tiny white flowers growing low in the grass. I don’t want to disturb him and I’m just about to sneak away when he turns his head toward me. 

Warm brown eyes, with crow’s feet radiating out from the corners, meet mine. But it’s his full beard, scattered with dandelions, that makes my heart tumble over itself in my chest. 

Smiling eyes. A full beard. Dandelions. 

Dandelions. 

My hand flies to my chest as I forget how to breathe. 

It’s him.

****

The man’s eyes widen, then he springs to his feet, banging his knee into the tripod almost making it topple over, but his arm shoots out, his big hand landing on the camera, stopping it from crashing down onto the grass.

“It’s you,” he says, his voice a deep rumble emanating from the pit of his stomach, vibrating its way to me, settling in my core.

It’s you. 

What does he mean? Does he recognize me, too? 

“It’s you,” he says again as he takes a few hesitant steps in my direction. His eyes never leave my face. 

“It’s you,” I echo, brows furrowed. 

The improbability of it all, of my recurring dream materializing and standing in front of me, makes me take a step backward. He leaps forward, dislodging a couple of the dandelions from his beard by the sudden movement, and I watch them sail to the ground. 

When I look up at him again, it’s as though I’m zooming out of my body and look at the two of us from a distance. Two men, separated by a white picket fence, staring at each other as though they’ve seen a ghost, as though they both think they must be hallucinating. His features are so familiar; I know every line radiating from the corner of his eyes, every strand of his beard. I know all the nuances of brown in his dark eyes; as though someone swirled chocolate into a deep well of coffee and then sprinkled some gold into the mix to make it irresistible. I know the sensitive setting of his mouth. I know the intense gaze.

It makes me dizzy, and I stumble but manage to keep myself upright. I take another wobbly step backward.

“Don’t go,” he says. “Please.” He stops but holds out his hand as though he wants to touch me to make sure I’m real. 

The feeling is mutual. How is this even possible? How can the man I’ve dreamed about every Midsummer these last thirty years be right here a few steps from me? As though I’ve dreamed him into existence. 

I drag my gaze away from his face and take in the rest of him. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his biceps are straining the short sleeves of his button-down shirt. He’s got a rounded belly and meaty thighs filling out his faded jeans, and his big wide feet are bare in the grass. 

Heat stirs between my hips. God, he’s not only the literal man of my dreams, but he’s hot as sin, too. When I force myself to look away from his body, our gazes meet. 

“You recognize me, too,” he says, eyes pleading. “I can tell from your reaction.”

I dip my chin once. “I do.”

My heart flutters in my chest like the wings of a colibri. Another dandelion falls from his beard and my gaze follows it down as it lands softly on the ground. 

My mind spins with questions and it’s making me dizzy again. How can the man from my dreams stand before me in the flesh? A living, breathing human being? A living breathing human being who recognizes me too?  

When our eyes meet again, I read the same confusion in him. 

About the Author 

Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bona fide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies room), loves music (and singing along at the top of her voice but she’s no Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (Make it so). She loves words, bullet journals, poetry, wine, coffee-flavored kisses, and fika (a Swedish cultural thing involving coffee and pastry!)

Nell believes passionately in equality for all regardless of race, gender or sexuality, and wants to make the world a better, less hateful, place.

Nell is a bisexual Swedish woman married to the love of her life, a proud mama of a grown daughter, and is approaching 50 faster than she’d like. She lives in the south of Sweden where she spends her days thinking up stories about people falling in love. After dreaming about being a writer for most of her life, she finally was in a place where she could pursue her dream and released her first book in 2017.

Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males. 

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Courting Nightfall by Amanda Meuwissen

The Courting Nightfall release blitz from author Amanda Meuwissen and Gay Book Promotions visits the blog today! Fantasy lovers check it out, find out more about the darker fantasy romance and enter in the eBook giveaway, courtesy of the author and JMS Books!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Courting Nightfall

Author: Amanda Meuwissen

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Release Date: June 19, 2021

Genres: Paranormal, High Fantasy, Horror, Dark M/M Romance

Tropes: Reincarnation, vampires, enemies to lovers, his first time, blood play

Themes:  Self-acceptance, redemption, love means letting go

Heat Rating: 4 flames  

Length: 182 pages

It is a standalone story

Goodreads 

Buy Links

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

JMS Books

Zen had only—literally only—ever dreamed that someone would want him this much…

Blurb

Zen is a half dark elf in a world that hates him, protected by being raised by the Order of the Sun to become a priest. He longs for a different life with a mysterious, beautiful man he only glimpses in dreams. After encountering an adventuring party, Zen is drawn to accompany them to destroy a fabled vampire lord, but the pull he feels toward those lands might be more fated than he realizes.

Excerpt 

That night, before falling into an exhausted sleep—in his tiny, wooden bed with minimal padding and coarse blankets—Zen gently touched the scar that ran full circle around his neck. He tried ignoring it during the day, hidden by the high collar of his vestments, but in bed, out of his robes, his fingers often strayed there. 

He didn’t know what had caused the wire-thin line. He’d had it all his life and often wondered if it had been a failed attempt to kill him as an infant. Like Father Lewis had said, he’d been abandoned on the steps of the temple. 

No one wanted a darkling child. 

Zen’s existence, his life, was most people’s nightmare, which was why it amazed and yet soothed him that he never experienced nightmares himself. His dreams were sweet. There he had no scars. In his dreams, he was whole and wanted. 

Desired, even.

A warm, human hand trailed slowly across Zen’s unmarred neck and down his naked body. Here his bed was plush and opulent, or perhaps it belonged to the man he imagined himself with. Zen had never met anyone like him in waking life, yet every dream he’d had since he first knew he desired men starred the same mysterious figure. 

Zen never saw his face clearly, but he was still a vision of noble beauty. Skin pale as cream with soft color in his cheeks, neatly trimmed black hair that occasionally fell into his eyes—and oh, his eyes. Some might think them haunting or eerie, being such a rich, ruddy brown that they almost looked red, but Zen adored them. He adored the smooth, flawless form laid out beside him, trim but well-muscled, and as naked as he was. 

Still, all those features painted an incomplete picture that he could never quite bring into focus. 

The man’s sex was impressive though, no doubt conjured from Zen’s most carnal fantasies, as ruddy as his eyes, swollen and leaking wetness onto the sheets. Zen had often longed to know the feel of it in his hands, his mouth, and deep inside him, but his dreams never allowed more than a tease. 

Zen didn’t know the man’s name and had never made one up, but he thought of him as an angel, giving him pleasures where real life never could. 

“You are a beautiful crystalline snowflake, my love, silver and blue and pure blinding white.” He kissed Zen’s cheek, his fingertips tracing mischievously down Zen’s stomach. His other hand ran blunt nails through Zen’s short white hair.  

That wasn’t right. Zen kept his snowy-white locks tied back, but his hair fell well past his shoulders. Like the missing scar, he was different here in the dreamworld. 

“I miss you,” his angel whispered and bent to kiss Zen’s lips. 

Then touch me, Zen thought, pressing upward and opening his mouth to connect them more deeply, while instantly wanting more. 

He didn’t know why his mind created a human man instead of someone more like him. Maybe because humans were all he’d ever known. The man was stunning regardless and saw Zen the way he’d always wished someone would. 

“Come, my love.”

Zen wanted to—

“Come to me. Come for me, my beautiful darkling, but come to me as well.”

Zen didn’t understand. How much closer could they get? His angel was between his legs, warm hand curling around him and squeezing with promise. Still, for all the lust that stirred in Zen, it was the intimacy of another kiss to his cheek that filled him with the most want. 

“Please, love, come to me. Come…” He stroked Zen firmly while licking up along one of his pointed darkling ears, inducing a deep shudder from low at the base of Zen’s spine. “Come… my Zenos.”

That wasn’t—

“Now!”

Zen’s eyes snapped open as if triggered by a spring, his sheets sticky and damp atop him from how he’d come before waking. 

Damn it. He rarely did that, usually waking hard and unfulfilled, and then taking himself in hand. Today he’d made a mess, and it wasn’t even morning.  

About the Author 

Amanda Meuwissen is a bisexual author, with a primary focus on M/M romance. As author of the paranormal romance trilogy The Incubus Saga and several other titles with various publishers, Amanda regularly attends local comic conventions for fun and to meet with fans, where she will often be seen in costume as one of her favorite fictional characters. She lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, with her husband, John, and their cat, Helga.

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Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

an eBook copy of Courting Nightfall

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Hosted by Gay Book Promotions