Showing posts with label Law Enforcement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Law Enforcement. Show all posts

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Criminal by Proxy by S.E. Smyth


 

Title:  Criminal by Proxy

Author: S.E. Smyth

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/25/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 75700

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Coming out, college, criminals, dark, doctors, enemies/rivals to lovers, established couple, friends to lovers, gender-bending, hurt/comfort, illness/disease, in the closet, law enforcement, lawyers, medical personnel, mental illness, over 40, prison, private detective, reunited, revenge, road trip, security guards, soulmates, tear-jerker, therapist, UST

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Description

Christine is on the hunt to find out more about her great aunt, Rose, hoping to decipher their severed relationship and the murder Rose committed, for which June is in prison. With a stroke leaving Rose incapacitated, it’s a rush against time to find the truth.

Things are doubly complicated when Christine’s girlfriend Terrie is accused of assaulting someone. Nervous about what she might do next, Christine and her friends avoid Terrie. With everything at stake, Christine must stick to the cold hard facts, reminding herself not to let her emotions get in the way.

Christine must evaluate everything happening in her life. The weight of the events buried by her aunt so many years before and the shame of the actions of the love of her life rest squarely on her. If the eyes of the law are always 20/20, how do love, emotion, and insecurities distort fact?

Excerpt

Criminal by Proxy
SE Smyth © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Dear Rose

“I loved her… That’s what I tell myself at least,” June uttered. Her exertion, her plea, resonated. “I told her that…yelled across the courtroom…in 1968, the day I went to prison, and I’ve said it a thousand times since.”

June had been a psychiatrist years ago, but Christine was the one listening now, decades later.

Christine was pretending to be a law student to get information, clarity on historical facts about the actions of her great-aunt Rose from the time she was in a mental hospital in the late 1950s. Her aunt, who was in her seventies, was not in Christine’s direct blood line but rather the child of her grandmother’s sister. She’d lived with Christine’s aunts and uncles and family from a young age, nonetheless. Christine had gathered scattered details in bits and pieces all her life. Every other family holiday or so, some new bit of information would surface. But she never asked. It was something everyone quietly avoided to begin with.

June had been Rose’s psychiatrist at one point while she was in a mental hospital. Sometime after she was released, she’d moved in with June, and they had developed a relationship. Rose had ended up shooting and killing a man, but Christine was confused about the chain of events and who was to blame. June was in prison, and Rose had been free since 1972.

Several letters followed the initial blunt hello letter to June. In those, they discussed basic things Christine got wrong and developed a loose friendship. After about four letters, Christine suggested a meeting. June recommended an interview room since she was a student, and Christine went about finding out if it was possible.

In an act of indiscretion, she set up an appointment to see the infamous June, someone she had recently found out to be Aunt Rose’s ex-lover. This interview, her time in the room with a prisoner who held a life sentence, was dedicated to asking questions to elucidate events from decades ago, that her aunt Rose never discussed.

Christine attempted to gauge if June was telling the truth. She needed to know if the legal decision was warranted. She was sure if she listened very carefully, she could figure out if June actually did love Aunt Rose and if the correct decision had been made in the courtroom in 1968. All this, Christine attempted to assess with a conversation. She would have an answer by the end of the conversation. It was her only objective.

June wasn’t the same person she had been years ago—when June had loved Aunt Rose and Aunt Rose had presumably loved her. That fact stuck out. Christine’s initial assessment was any flame June still held for Aunt Rose was one-sided.

June only half faced her, sitting sideways on the chair, the corner of which stuck out between her legs. June glanced over her shoulder. She held a waning seventy years in her limbs, but she still glowed with energy. Christine didn’t mind she threw a sneer down across her nose. Christine pried and chipped at information at first, but the conversation soon flowed more smoothly.

Christine had first heard about June from her great-aunt, who kicked up old memories and dropped them right away. Christine let her get away with her excuses—she didn’t remember. June was her aunt’s ex-lover. She mentioned she was in prison. That was everything her aunt would tell her. Christine had found out June was labeled a criminal by the media. She was a prisoner with a life sentence. Aunt Rose had fired the gun, but they’d given the slot in prison to June. Christine imagined her day, filled with bitter resentment for her free ex-lover. The lover who didn’t contact her. There had to be bad blood. Christine eyed her goal at this point—information. She needed to know what had happened. Christine was interrogating her, asking her to relive it for a law school report, what she thought about the case so many years later. Unfairly picking at issues June wasn’t ready to answer, she continued the questions.

June went on, describing everything in bits and pieces. She would pause and continue, restart with irrelevant comments, diverting the conversation. “It was different all that time ago. All the hoopla over something agreed to be truth. If someone thought you were a lesbian and if they caught you, arms were up in the air—sirens roared. It was a travesty, and something was done about it.” June continued on about the past, how people thought of her and talked about her.

She spoke about the past as if events weren’t real, as if life were a story she was reading to children, the grim side of a fairy tale. Off and on, June would shift, indicating her tongue had taken her too far. She shouldn’t have let the full story go. Her knowledge was an out-of-body reflection, too real. The trauma showed through.

Christine’s life of rumors, her life, seemed trivial. Three close friends gossiped about Christine and the woman she’d slept with last summer, Amy. Her friends told her to move on, but she wouldn’t let the friendship go. They said, “She’ll mess you up.” It was still the same shameful behavior: whispered gossip, stern talks, and scandalous goings-on. Her reality was different from June’s in that Christine didn’t have the same amount to lose. Nothing was a malicious, life-ruining assault.

“We were taking risks. Real risks. Higher stakes than today. I didn’t want to change the world or loosen people’s opinions. I wanted love. She gave me that. So, what else was I supposed to do?” June said. She grabbed at short tufts of hair at the base of her head.

“What people were doing was so important. I don’t want to say it wasn’t. We had love, and we wanted to keep it. We fought that battle every day from our apartment, from our place of work. In a way, very quietly, but we fought. We certainly didn’t change the minds of the world when the murder happened. We acknowledged how strong our love was before the murder. It was so well bonded that I still love her now, after all these years.” Her words softened and rounded as she spoke again about her love. She dipped her head as if the frown that extended cheek to cheek were pulling it down.

Wrinkles emerged in the corners of June’s eyes as Christine tapped her pencil. Christine stopped to cease any errant irritation. When Christine tried to bring June back and force her to be present, talk about the case, June’s vocal qualities changed.

The soft voice June spoke with when talking about the past and love disappeared into one of an aged woman when she spoke about what was going on in her life now. “You see. They all believe me in here now. I love her. My friends in prison. It’s okay to be gay, even though it definitely wasn’t when they locked me up.”

Christine sat stiffly as a board in the chair listening to June, catching every word. As she performed the gesture, she committed to brushing off immature and unserious actions, those not indicative of a law student. She was already in a precarious balance with June, a relaxed new friend facing a studious law student—both skeptical of masked lies, strangers in an unfamiliar room. Christine’s great-aunt Rose was dying. Who was this woman she kept speaking of?

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Meet the Author

S.E. Smyth is a versatile author putting words into the world. The stories she tells are never exactly how they happened. Elusive as she proclaims she is, you can usually find her nose buried in primary sources plotting a story. Despite persisting historical references, she wholeheartedly believes she lives in the present.

She resides in a smaller sort of town in Pennsylvania, carries heavy things for her wife, rubs cat bellies, and can often be seen taking brisk walks. The household is certain there is something odd going on. She and her wife travel when the air is right looking for antique stores, bike trails, and the perfect beach. S.E. rises unnecessarily early and usually falls asleep by 9 p.m.

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Audiobook Review: Home Work (Life Lessons #3) by Kaje Harper

Murder, trauma, and raising children—who said love was easy?

Mac and Tony thought the hard part was over. They’re together openly as a couple, sharing a home and building a life with their two kids. It’s what they dreamed of.

But daughter Anna struggles with the changes, Ben is haunted by old secrets, Mac’s job in Homicide still demands too much of his time, and Tony is caught in the middle. It’ll take everything these men can give to create a viable balance between home and work. Especially when life refuses to give them a break.

(This is a lightly edited rerelease of the 2012 original novel.)

 

Listening Length: 10 hours and 28 minutes
Narrator: JF Harding

Reviewer: Annery


This is book 3 in Kaje Harper’s Life Lessons series. Can you start here? Maybe but you’d be missing the richness of these characters, how they came together, and the depth of their love. Do yourself a favor and read or better yet listen to the first two and then this one. KH and J.F. Harding won’t let you down. 

The story picks up shortly after where book 2 left off. Mac and Tony are now living together, getting the hang of being full time parents to two kids who have issues of their own, navigating the expectations of cohabitation plus Mac being a publicly out cop in 2011. It’s not easy but the author portrays it all realistically and beautifully.

As in the previous installments there’s a murder mystery, Mac is after all a police detective, but the victim(s) & suspects are fairly dislikable or outright heinous people. I for one couldn’t have cared less about them except as to how they affected Mac & Tony, and did they ever. To me it was a frame to tease out the day to day life of our MC. This volume pretty clearly spells out the realities of Mac coming out as a cop in 2011/12 or even now. I liked how the author didn’t dress up or minimize the facts of this new life they are forging together while never losing perspective that this is after all a romance. About adults.

On the homefront we have Tony who is infinitely patient and understanding but not a doormat saint. Meanwhile Mac is learning that he’s no longer alone in the journey of life and that companionship requires reciprocity. He’s happy to learn. Meanwhile work throws a rather big spanner into their lives but seeing them wade through the hurdles is both painful & beautiful.

I love how Mac & Tony were with each other. How despite the humdrum or excitement of everyday life they were always there for each other in friendship, romantic, and carnal ways. This was a very satisfying read and highly recommended. I’d also follow up with Compensations, which is kind of a longer epilogue to Home Work. I’m very much looking forward to book 4, particularly if it’s narrated by J.F. Harding.

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



Release Blitz + Giveaway: And God Laughed (Terry Luvello #1) by Joe Rielinger


 

Title:  And God Laughed

Series: Terry Luvello, Book One

Author: Joe Rielinger

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 09/06/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Female

Length: 75100

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, trans, private detective, crime, murder mystery, suspense, family drama, priests, law enforcement, serial killer, religion, revenge

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Description

Private detective Terry Luvello has just been handed the biggest case of his career. During confession, a man has twice declared his intent to commit murder. In both cases, the murders later occurred in exactly the way the unknown man had described.

Hoping to keep the church connection out of the newspapers, the parish pastor asks Terry to find the killer and act as his liaison with the Cleveland Police and Detective Hannah Page. While dealing with their own growing attraction, Terry and Hannah race from Cleveland to New Orleans to catch a brilliant and ruthless killer acting on his own twisted compulsion.

Those who know Terry describe him as intelligent, obsessive, and annoying, often all at once. To solve this case, Terry must also put his uniquely wry sense of humor into play, coming to terms with a longstanding grudge against the Catholic Church and his identity as a transgender male.

Excerpt

And God Laughed
Joe Rielinger © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Amos Johnson was an enforcer. A triggerman for the Cleveland mob, Amos stood six-foot-four with the physique and ornery nature of a habitual steroid user. His body was his business, and Amos took his business seriously.

Amos also loved tattoos. Known as “Tatts” to his friends, Amos proudly claimed to have visited every tattoo parlor in the city of Cleveland. Fully covered from head to toe, the design on his left forearm was a tribute to his mother.

Amos’s other tattoos, not nearly as sentimental, would get him thrown out of any polite gathering in the city. That assumed, of course, someone would be foolhardy enough to try.

Not being part of polite society myself, Amos and his tattoos didn’t bother me at all. We shared the same opinion about the Browns, blues music, and the current state of the movie industry. With the people I met in my business, that was pretty much the best you could hope for. Amos might not have understood me, but he was at least willing to make the effort.

I met Amos almost a year ago during a custody dispute with his ex-wife. His ex, a heroin addict, had run off with Amos’s two-year-old daughter, Leann. It wasn’t that Amos thought he should take care of his daughter—he knew he wasn’t cut out for parenthood any more than his ex-wife. Amos’s goal instead was to return Leann to the person who really did have custody, his beloved mother, Amelia. He hired me, a licensed private investigator, to make that reunion happen.

After a lucky break, I was able to return Leann to her grandmother within two days of her abduction. Amos was grateful, but he couldn’t pay me much. That was pretty much an occupational hazard, though Amos promised he would be forever in my debt. One year later, that was a marker I needed to call.

My old-school mother would call Amos a thug. I didn’t care if Amos was a thug because tonight, he was my thug. Bored and uncomfortable, Amos and I were crouched behind a car on the fifth floor of the main student parking garage at Creesmont College, a small liberal arts school about twenty miles outside of Greater Cleveland.

As colleges go, Creesmont wasn’t much. Its history department was rated as one of the top thirty programs for schools of its size, and that was about it for high-level academics at the college. In a move born of desperation, Creesmont administration decided to take advantage of the school’s low academic reputation by investing more in athletics. That bet had paid off, and the school’s football team currently ranked in the top five of Division Three schools across the country.

Amos and I were waiting to meet James O’Keefe. Considered a potential low-round pick in the next NFL draft, O’Keefe was the senior quarterback of this year’s Creesmont football team. Six-foot-three, movie-star handsome and outwardly friendly, he was every girl’s dream date. Unfortunately for those girls, James preferred rape to relationships.

My client, Jenna Adamcheck, was a third-year English major at Creesmont. To earn extra money, Jenna had signed up as a tutor for the Creesmont Athletic Program, and her first client was James O’Keefe.

With a long-term boyfriend at another school, Jenna had little interest in James’s early attempts at seduction. Her indifference only piqued James’s interest, and Jenna was surprised two weeks into their arrangement when James showed up at her dorm room requesting an unscheduled tutoring session. Jenna reluctantly allowed James into her room, where he then continued his courtship by pushing Jenna onto her bed and ripping off her sweater top.

Jenna was no shrinking violet. Taught by her father to always fight back, she aimed a well-placed knee at James’s crotch. The knee connected, and James, now in considerable pain, fought to regain the upper hand.

Jenna, however, was not through. Furious, she grabbed the fork she was using for dinner and aimed it at James’s left eye. While she missed, the fork drew blood as it gashed her assailant’s left cheek. Unsure how to deal with a woman who hit back, James ran from Jenna’s room. Cursing and in pain, he plotted his revenge.

Thinking she had resolved the incident, Jenna didn’t report James to Creesmont administration. That was a mistake; although, it did initially appear James had backed off.

Three days later, Jenna found the windshield of her 2018 Kia Forte smashed and a typewritten note placed on the driver’s seat. The message read, “Sluts always pay in the end.” Alarmed, Jenna reported the incident to campus police along with her suspicions as to the culprit. Without evidence, those suspicions were promptly ignored.

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Meet the Author

Joe Rielinger lives in Cleveland, Ohio, with his wife, Lisa, and their two fun-loving, though often borderline crazy golden retrievers. With a lifetime love of mystery, crime, and detective novels, Joe is currently working on a sequel to his first book, And God Laughed. When he isn’t writing, Joe likes to cook, read, and pretend he might someday learn something about training his two dogs.

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Audiobook Review: Breaking Cover (Life Lessons #2) by Kaje Harper

Sometimes one moment defines a man.

For homicide detective Mac, it's been a good year. Having Tony to go home to makes him a better cop and a better person. For Tony, it's been hard being in love with a man he can't touch in public. Evasions and outright lying to friends and family take a little of the shine off his relationship with Mac, but Tony is determined to make it work.

As the Minneapolis Police Department moves into a hot, humid summer, Mac is faced with a different challenge. A killer has murdered two blond women, and the police have no real clues. Mac hates to think that another murder may be the only way they'll make progress with the case. But when that murder happens, it hits close to home for Tony. And suddenly Mac faces an ultimatum: Come out into the sunlight and stand beside Tony as his lover, or walk away and live without a piece of his heart.

Narrator: JF Harding

Listening Length: 9 hours and 46 minutes



Reviewer: Annery



This is Bk.2 in the Life Lessons series and I can unreservedly say that it’s a welcome addition along with the continued narration by J. F. Harding. I would however add that to really appreciate this volume you should read Bk.1, “Life Lessons”. You won’t regret it.

About a year has passed since the events in the first book and Tony & Mac have settled into a kind of half life. Tony is still a teacher and Mac continues working as a Homicide Detective. In the privacy of Tony’s apartment they’re like any other new couple, learning each other’s ticks, foibles, and contours but this discovery is only possible away from prying eyes because Mac is decidedly still in the closet and with no immediate plans for coming out. This situation cannot hold and a case lands in Mac’s lap that will change both of their lives irrevocably.

What I like best about Kaje Harper’s books is that while adhering to the tropes of romance she manages to keep her stories grounded in the material reality of when & where the MC live. In this case I’m sure many readers will have issues with Mac being in the closet and Tony, despite being “out & proud”, acceding to essentially being a dirty secret. To make matters worse (or maybe it’s a logical side effect) Mac can’t even say the three magic words. It’s a lot and I appreciated the realistic depiction of a same sex couple living in this world.

The things they have in common, their sexual and emotional compatibility, what makes them a couple, are the things that keep Tony clinging to a relationship that goes against everything he’s fought against. He’s infinitely patient and accommodating to Mac’s work and frame of mind but something happens and Tony can no longer extend such largesse. Mac must make a choice and I’m happy to say he comes through in shining color when it matters.

I liked how things developed fairly organically. How Mac’s reasons for staying closeted, for having his daughter in the care of his cousin, were absolutely logical without being melodramatic.I also liked that though there are two children who are integral to the story they don’t overshadow Tony & Mac. Yes, the children are perhaps a bit idealized, but we already have enough drama to go around. It’s also worth noting that this was originally published in 2011 and it seems like the story takes place around that same time, Marriage Equality hasn’t been decided, and that reality necessarily informs the mindset of the characters. It’s almost historical!

To recap: I really liked it, loved J. F. Harding’s narration, and will definitely be looking forward to the next volumes on audio.

Unimportant Niggles That Will Bother No One But Me: As I said, the book/story was originally published in 2011 and in a sense is an artifact of a certain time & place. I own copies of the 2011 publication. There’s been an effort (IMO misguided) to change some terms and even more to align with 2022 standards. It is/was unnecessary and at times just makes the story read anachronistic as the rest remains rooted in the past and the reader is pretty aware of it, i.e. Tony & Mac can’t get married in their state.

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



Release Blitz + Giveaway: Day of Judgment by Aurora Crane and Briar Kearney


 

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Day of Judgment

Authors and Publishers: Aurora Crane and Briar Kearney

Cover Artist: Cormar Covers

Release Date: September 1, 2022

Genre: Dark Contemporary MMM Romance

Tropes: Forbidden love, polyamory romance (MMM), established couple 

Themes: Good men doing bad things, brutal side of justice, love and duty

Heat Rating:  4 flames      

Length: 98 000 words

It is a standalone story for now as it is part of a collaboration with several other authors called “Virtuous Sinners.” It will become part of a trilogy to be released next year once the collection has ended in three months.

The book does not end on a cliffhanger.

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A federal prosecutor with a three-digit body count, his clever and adoring husband, and the FBI Special Agent who got too close.

Blurb

A federal prosecutor with a three-digit body count, his clever and adoring husband, and the FBI Special Agent who got too close.

Led by Lady Justice, Justin Reynolds spills the blood of the unworthy with his husband Ace at his side. Together, they’re a well-honed symbiote with the potential to bring the world to its knees. Neither of them are prepared for the man who brings them to theirs.

FBI Agent Maddox Doherty has dedicated himself to getting the job done, sacrificing everything else, especially his personal life. Sent to investigate a string of murders, he’s prepared for anything… except the sparks that fly between him and the married couple.

An undeniable chemistry draws Maddox deeper into Justin and Ace’s web, and soon he finds himself losing sight of the line he’s built his life and career around. But how far is too far and what happens when the darkness swallows him whole?

Day of Judgment is an 80, 000-word dark MMM romance featuring morally grey characters and violence. It also includes voyeurism, wax play, edging, bondage and mild BDSM themes. Reader’s discretion is advised.

Virtuous Sinners is a collection of gay romance stories that center on killers who are guided by a virtuous code. These dark novels are connected only by theme and can be read standalone.

The killer’s virtue in Day of Judgment: Justice

Excerpt 

“He’s beautiful,” Ace murmured.

“He is,” Justin agreed. He gave Ace’s thumb one last lick before releasing him. Ace’s small smile as he picked his pastry up again made light swell in Justin’s heart. He would never be able to express how much he adored his husband, how much of the world he would be willing to burn down to keep him safe. Justin would move heaven and earth to keep that smile with him even if it cost the world. 

“Imagine him on our sheets,” Ace said, leaning forward, his eyes deep and bright in the sunlight. “With ropes around his wrists. With wax across his chest, across his back, on his ass. Eyes closed, head back, mouth open.”

Justin shifted in his seat, his body responding to Ace’s sensual words. He rarely cared about who Ace chose to join them. They were there to get him off, a tool for Ace to use to give Justin the release, the peace he sought. They never took them into their private bedroom, never let them into their inner sanctum. This was the first time Ace had ever even mentioned it. Most surprising of all, Justin could see it. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell it. 

“He watched and he wanted, Justin. It wouldn’t take much.” Ace’s voice got lower. “A simple invitation even.” 

Justin shifted his gaze, finding Maddox watching them from the passenger seat of the car. He sipped his latte, maintaining eye contact. Maddox didn’t blink, didn’t look away. Ace was right. He would be glorious to play with, be absolutely magnificent spread out on their sheets with his dark hair against the white and those amber eyes lined with thick lashes.

Too bad he was a Fed. Justin was surprised by the pang of regret that vibrated in his chest. They could have had fun. “You know we can’t.” 

Ace let out an annoyed breath. “Yeah. Should we go somewhere else, or are you done for the day?” he asked, tilting his head just a fraction, some of his hair falling into his face. 

Justin licked his bottom lip, watching Maddox track it. He wished he were closer so he could see the way it changed the color of his eyes, see that amber melt with lust. 

“I’m done,” he said to Ace. They’d toyed with the agents enough for one day. Tomorrow was a new day, with new possibilities. Ethan and Kit were still scouring names and records and information. Until they had some concrete targets for him—which he hoped was soon—he had nothing but time on his hands. And he intended to stick close to Ace. He dared anyone to try and get to him while Justin was with him. He would relish it, would enjoy removing them from the land of the living. 

Ace stood and pulled his jacket from the back of his chair, draping it over his arm. “Well?” 

Justin took his time rising from his own seat. “Fix my tie.” 

“Your tie is fine,” Ace said, a smile playing on his lips. 

“Is it? Are you sure?” 

Ace laughed as he moved forward, taking hold of the perfectly done accessory. He flicked the clip that stopped the tie from moving and then ran his fingers down the silky material. There were multiple layers between those fingers and Justin’s skin, and he still responded like they were naked. His body knew what they felt like over every inch of him, and his response was pure instinct, anticipation of more, of the highest level of pleasure. It knew what came next. 

Justin splayed his hand across Ace’s jaw, lifted his chin with a thumb. He looked straight at Maddox as he leaned down and pressed his lips against Ace’s. Ace opened beneath him with a moan, and Justin tightened his grip as he explored the sweet nectar within. 

Maddox didn’t look away. 

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Trusting Tennyson (Out in Austin #3) by KD Ellis


 

Trusting Tennyson by KD Ellis

General Release Date: 9th August 2022

Word Count:  92,524
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 363

Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
CRIME
CRIME AND MYSTERY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MEN IN UNIFORM
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS

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Book Description

Tennyson thought this would be just another undercover assignment. Catching feelings for two traumatized men wasn’t part of the plan.

When FBI Agent Liam Tennyson was embedded in the La Familia cartel, he didn’t expect to meet not one but two young men whose terrified eyes haunt his dreams—and stir up feelings he thought long buried.

Asher Downs left his homophobic family behind the day he earned his high school diploma. With little more than a bus ticket to his name, he moves to Austin to meet his online boyfriend, Devon. Unfortunately for Asher, life doesn’t always go according to plan.

Misha might have been born as Dimitri, but now he answers to whatever name Master gives him. Snaring another innocent young man into this life is the last thing Misha desires. But Master gets what Master wants—and Master wants a matching set of toys to play with.

When a mole in the justice department compromises Tennyson’s identity—and jeopardizes his plan to rescue Misha and Asher—Tennyson is left with no choice but to go on the lam. Can the two traumatized boys learn to trust him to keep them safe?

Reader advisory: This book references child trafficking, abuse and Daddy play. It is best read as book three in a series.

Excerpt

The boy on the screen was pretty. Blond, with copper-lined blue eyes—cornflower, not steel—and pouty lips made shiny from gloss, he looked like a doll. Men would pay thousands to fuck him and even more to fuck him up. It wasn’t hard to see why Master was enamored.

Misha hated him. Misha hated everything the boy stood for on the other end of a computer screen, thousands of miles away. He probably lived in some nice suburb with a white picket fence, with parents who paid for braces without complaint, drove him to swim classes and sat down for family dinners consisting of more than just oatmeal and water.

Misha hated his amateur videos that taught boys how to apply makeup, his comparisons of drugstore makeup brands and his mock fashion shows as he strutted around in skirts and heels and lacy blouses.

If the boy weren’t so pretty, if his videos hadn’t gotten so popular, he could have stayed under the radar and Misha would still be Master’s favorite.

The best whore.

The prettiest.

The most obedient.

The good boy.

Instead of sitting there, Master’s breath damp on the back of his neck while Misha crept his fingers over the keyboard to lure in his replacement. The pretty boy must get thousands of messages a day. Maybe Misha’s wouldn’t register, buried beneath the rest. Maybe he’d get it but not reply, and Misha would be safe.

Master’s attention, and his hands on Misha’s body, might terrify him, but not as much as the idea of losing it.

* * * *

Asher Downs rattled his bedroom doorknob for the third time, just in case it had somehow come unlocked. Then, and only then, with his heart pounding in his chest, did he drag out the old Nike shoebox from under his bed, the one that used to hold his soccer cleats. Now, it hid his makeup case.

It was plastic and cheap, much like the makeup inside, odds and ends he’d bought discounted at the drugstore on the corner with change he’d picked up from the sidewalk and pilfered from the ashtray in the Buick, one lonely quarter at a time.

With reverence, he carried the case over to his desk-turned-vanity. The mirror was a cheap thing, bought on sale because it was cracked, the glass spiderwebbed from the top of the frame down one side. When his parents were home, he kept it tucked in the back of the closet, under a ratty baseball jersey he’d outgrown as a preteen.

His phone was already secured in his makeshift tripod—leaning against a book, the bottom half-inch tucked behind a two-pound dumbbell so it wouldn’t slide forward. As soon as he laid out his makeup, he could start the video.

His lipstick was barely a nub of pink in the cracked tube, his eyeshadow more dust than pigment. Even his foundation wasn’t quite right—a bit too dry and a little too light for his sun-kissed, boy-next-door skin, tanned from playing football each summer with the church youth group.

These broken beauties were his prized possessions, worth more to him than the collectible baseball cards in their little plastic sleeves on his bookshelf or the signed poster of Kobe that his dad had been so excited to hang up when Asher had started high school.

Before Asher had gotten caught kissing the captain of the basketball team under the bleachers.

Before the mandatory after-school meetings with Pastor Luke twice a week to ‘examine his soul’.

Now, his little brother Ryder wasn’t even allowed in the same room with him, his dad could barely look at him without scowling and his mother locked the cabinet doors in the bathroom as if she needed to hide her feminine products from his perverted eyes. She should have locked her makeup away instead, back when he’d been a boy and had first discovered the magic it held.

The way a bit of shadow could make his eyes piercing, soften his jaw or sharpen his cheekbones… How a little color could make him look happy, even when inside he felt like dying.

He’d come a long way since the first time he’d decided to film himself doing this, a silent protest against his parents that he’d devised under the influence of Dad’s bitter liquor, pilfered from the expensive stash he kept on top of the fridge. He hadn’t expected the video to go viral.

Now, he filmed sober, but nerves still birthed butterflies in his stomach. The fear of getting caught, which had him rattling his doorknob again, mingled with the excitement of watching his view counter tick steadily upward. He had almost a hundred thousand subscribers now, enough to put a little money into the secret bank account he’d opened as soon as he’d turned eighteen.

He could use it for better makeup or a ring light, but he was saving it to escape, maybe move out West, somewhere he wouldn’t have to hide anymore. He’d dipped into it once already for a better laptop after his old one had crapped out. He was going to need to upgrade his phone soon, too—an expense he couldn’t avoid but was delaying as long as he was able. His subscribers were already starting to comment on the graininess of the videos, and those wouldn’t take long to become complaints.

Mom promised he could stay with them until he graduated, but that was it, leaving him with just over a month to get a plan in place. College was out of the question. Unlike his younger brother Ryder, he wasn’t a computer genius who already had a dozen scholarships to choose from, and unlike they would for Ryder, Mom and Dad would never cover his expenses.

If he wanted out, he was going to have to do it on his own, a thought that finally motivated him to draw in a breath, plaster on a smile and push the red circle to start filming.

“Everything sucks and we’re all dying, but I’m going to look pretty doing it. Who’s ready to play with the pretty paint and give themselves a plus ten to their charisma check?” Asher jumped in with his quirky and somewhat nerdy greeting, smothering his real-world concerns beneath the joy that he got from doing makeup.

It wouldn’t last long—only until the video ended—but for now, for these handful of minutes, he was going to enjoy it.

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About the Author

KD Ellis

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

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: End of the Line (Jake's Bar #1) by AG Meiers


 

BLOG TOUR

Release Date: July 7, 2022

Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance Suspense – Two men falling in love while budging bullets and chasing bad guys.

Tropes:  Mistaken identity / opposites attract / lone wolf meets stubborn pretty boy / age gap / found family

Themes:  Falling in love / chasing bad guys / overcoming trust issues / finding balance and letting go of other people’s expectations

Length: 77 672 words

Heat Rating: 4 flames 

It is a standalone book and is the first in the series to be published. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Suspense and Romance is complete, but there’s a 2nd book with a new couple and a continuation of the suspense plot.

Goodreads 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Opposites Attract…T R O U B L E…

Blurb 

Jake Devlin knows trouble when he sees it and he wants no part of it. His quiet, peaceful life is a hard-fought dream. And the man who stumbles through the backdoor of Jake’s bar—beaten to hell—he is trouble with a capital T. The last thing Jake needs is to get involved with the sexy and secretive stranger. He definitely shouldn’t offer him a place to stay. But…he does…

Murder and mayhem follow Detective Miguel Conway. One minute he’s working a case, and the next, his cover is blown and he barely escapes with his life. Con didn’t expect Jake to offer help when he needs it most. And he definitely wasn’t prepared to fall for the grumpy ex-Marine. But…he does…

Attraction sparks as the two men are thrown together to figure out who wants to keep Con quiet and why. Well, at least Con is trying to solve his case. Jake is mainly trying to protect the young, impulsive cop. Midnight stakeouts, a celebrity wedding, and passion-filled nights—can Jake and Con find the balance between taking risks and keeping safe? And turn attraction into happily ever after?

But none of that matters if they fail to get the target off Con’s back…

Series: End of the Line, Book 1 in the award-winning Jake’s Bar series, is a steamy, M/M romantic suspense featuring a rainbow-colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. It’s a place where you can always find support (and a cold beer) when life spins out of control. So, download today, and get ready to fall in love with Jake’s Bar.

Excerpt 

A gay bar. Thank you, Jesus. A fucking gay bar. Loud and proud. Con’s kind of place, but none of Murphy’s men would be caught dead in here. Con’s body hurt all over, but they hadn’t found him. He’d given his pursuers the slip and was out of the rain.

About an hour ago—close to two in the morning—Jake had flipped the lights on and kicked everybody out. People barely dared to finish their drinks when the big, bulky man with his booming voice told them to go the fuck home. Con would be surprised if any of them would come back. Damn, Jake was something else. Con had a thing for guys who took charge and thinking of it sent sparks down his spine.

Jake had offered Con to call it a night as soon as the last guest had left the place. Clearly, he hadn’t missed that Con was moving slower and slower as the night progressed. And fuck, his ribs hurt something fierce. Still, he had declined Jake’s offer to leave right away. The bar owner had raised an eyebrow, but much to his relief, Jake had started to put the chairs up himself while Con got a broom. And every time he tried to do anything but sweep, Jake had thundered at him to stay out of the way.

“Are you trying to dig a hole with that broom? I think that corner is clean enough,” Jake said quietly from across the room, his tall frame propped against the bar—arms crossed—watching. Jake’s calm focus sent chills over Con’s body as he forced himself to relax with a few more long inhales and exhales. His overtired brain fired some images of being at the receiving end of Jake’s laser sharp attention under different circumstance—with a whole lot less distance between them, and fewer clothes. Jake was hot in an angry, pissed-off way. Square. Solid. A force to be reckoned with.

Loud tapping of Jake’s fingers onto the bar brought Con back from his wayward thoughts. For a moment, the impatient rhythm was the only sound, then Jake let out a huff of air and said, “Listen, I’m not sure how to ask this, but—do you have anywhere to go tonight?”

“Yes, of course, I—” Con’s answer had been a reflex, but he actually had no idea how to end this sentence.

“You can stay here if you have nowhere safe to go.”

Nowhere safe. How did he know? Con’s heart skipped a beat and then started to race again in his chest. His eyes shot over to the front door. How the fuck did he know?

“Hey, calm down.” Jake pushed himself up from the counter and walked a few steps closer but then stopped again. “You have no defensive wounds. And, well, you’re a big dude, so I wonder what happened to you tonight.”

Three against one. I never had a chance.

“It’s fine. You’re safe. Is it okay if I touch you?” Jake was suddenly by his side, his voice soft. Gently, a hand came down on his shoulder. “It’s okay. Why don’t you just stay on my couch tonight?”

The warmth of Jake’s hand seeped through his skin. Con gritted his jaw to steel himself against the sudden need to lean in. Any other time, he’d have given Jake crap for treating him like a wounded animal, but his beat-up body was starting to give in on him. “That would be great,” he managed through clenched teeth.

About the Author  

Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.

When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.

Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Turtle Bay (Tides of Change #2) by John Patrick


 

Title: Turtle Bay

Series: Tides of Change, Book Two

Author: John Patrick

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/28/2022

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 85400

Genre: Historical, LGBTQIA+, gender-bending, cross-dressing, businessman, humor, law enforcement, political, PTSD, Postwar America, sexual discovery

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Description

It’s 1947, and New York City is awaiting the construction of the new United Nations building, the FBI is actively pursuing Communists and Soviet spies as the Cold War begins to build, and homosexual men have even more reasons to hide who they are.

Uptight FBI Agent Arthur Mason is so deep in the closet he doesn’t even realize he’s in one. Clueless about his own sexuality, he’s surprised at his reaction to both Hans Schmidt and his twin sister, Ada. Under pressure from work, Mason investigates Hans and his boarders, including the highly suspicious Hank Mannix, a known member of the Communist Party. Though Mason can’t seem to locate Ada, he can’t stop thinking about Hans and keeps going back to visit.

Hans Schmidt is a cross-dressing German immigrant running a boarding house for “a certain type of man,” and he wants nothing to do with Agent Mason and his ill-fitting suits and bad haircut. Until he begins to see Mason more as a man and less as a government official.

Hans enjoys dressing as a woman from time to time, and once his feelings for Arthur begin to change, he realizes he needs to share his Ada persona if they are to have a future together.

Secrets on both sides must be revealed and cherished beliefs challenged if these two men are to find the love and happiness they deserve.

This story can be read on its own; however, characters from book one, Dublin Bay, play a prominent role as secondary characters, so it’s recommended to read that first.

Excerpt

Turtle Bay
John Patrick © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Hans

Even after five years in America, Hans still startled every time the telephone rang—an abrupt, clanging sound insisting on attention. Why couldn’t a country capable of producing an atomic bomb be able to create a more discreet way of letting a person know about an incoming call? He vaguely remembered the phones in Ireland giving a soft chime first, before beginning to ring in earnest, but his time there had been short and chaotic, always one step ahead of capture, so he couldn’t be sure.

He didn’t remember the sound of telephones in Germany at all, even though he knew one hung on the wall in the university’s administration office. He pictured it there next to the corkboard but couldn’t reconstruct its sound.

He hoped the new dial telephone would have a more melodious tone. Assuming the phone company ever got around to swapping out his candlestick model for something more modern as they had been promising for months.

The telephone sat atop the counter in the small reception hallway. Hans swiveled his stool and picked up the entire device, bringing the mouthpiece forward and lifting the receiver close to his ear. He was surprised a call had even come through; most of the operators had gone out on strike.

“Schmidt’s Boarding House, Hans Schmidt speaking.”

“Hans, old boy! It’s Wally, up in Albany.”

“Oh, Wally, so good to hear from you. Is this business or pleasure?”

“Business, I’m afraid. I have a live one for you. And don’t forget I’m still on a party line here.”

That was code for anyone could be listening. Hans appreciated the reminder. The boarding house had its own private line, and he sometimes forgot most people outside the city still used party lines. As if to prove the point, Hans heard muffled soft breathing in the background.

He sighed and glanced at the wall clock, mentally rearranging his calendar for the afternoon. “Hold on.” He placed the transmitter back on the desk, switched the receiver to his left hand, and pulled a pad and pencil out of the drawer. He leaned closer to the mouthpiece so he could still be heard. “A day or two’s notice would make a nice change. But go on.”

“Sorry, there was no advance notice this time. He came right up to the counter and said, ‘One-way ticket to New York City, please, next available bus.’ You’ve got two more hours. I’m certain of this one, Hans. We served together.”

“Oh, were you…?”

“No. Nothing like that,” Wally responded. “But I knew, of course.”

“I understand. Greyhound?” Hans asked.

“Yes, arrives at three thirty.”

That was good news at least. The Greyhound terminal was next to Penn Station, which was only a half-hour walk if he hurried.

“Would you recommend Ada or Hans?”

“Oh, Ada for sure, dear boy. This one seems quite skittish. A direct approach won’t do. He needs to see what’s possible,” Wally replied. “He’s a good kid, Hans. Don’t let him get swallowed up by the Y.”

“Understood, and thanks for the tip. What will he be wearing?”

Wally laughed, and the connection broke up a bit. “Oh, not to worry. You can’t miss him.” Hans heard a click as someone hung up, or perhaps someone else picked up to check if the line was available.

“Will you be coming down yourself anytime soon?” Hans asked. “You absolutely must see David Brooks in Brigadoon. He’s in a kilt most of the time. We could make a weekend of it.”

“That sounds grand! Maybe next month.”

They exchanged a few additional pleasantries and ended the call.

Hans needed at least an hour to get Ada ready, and he was thankful he hadn’t yet put on cologne. He’d planned a shopping trip this afternoon to resupply a few staples—coffee, tea, and biscuits for the ladies’ reception parlor—but that could be rescheduled. But he couldn’t put it off for too long; the ladies did not like to run out of biscuits during their social hour.

As he descended the stairs to Ada’s room on the garden level—a New York euphemism for below ground—he was reminded how much easier things were for men. He wore a simple gray suit with a narrow navy tie, appropriate for all seasons and conservatively bland. Why, a fellow could disappear into any crowd wearing such an outfit.

Ada, though—she had a much tougher go of it. It was spring, technically, but still quite chilly. She’d need something…delightful. Yes, Hans thought, that was the right word. Not too frivolous, but sufficiently feminine to show the world there was still joy in beauty. But she’d also need to wear an outercoat and sensible enough shoes for a bit of a walk. She wouldn’t want to invite scrutiny, but she’d want people to see her and appreciate the effort she’d made.

Hans stepped into Ada’s room and opened the closet. He considered his options. He’d have to use last spring’s coat; he hadn’t had the time or funds to completely reoutfit this season. But it would do the job. It was robin’s-egg blue with a fitted waist rather than a belt. Five oversized white buttons ran down its length. Sadly, American fashion houses continued to insist on outrageously padded shoulders even now, nearly two years after the war’s end.

A thrill ran through Hans as he stood in front of Ada’s closet. It always did, right before the transformation.

He eyed the spring dress he’d bought two weeks ago and knew it would be perfect. He took it out of the closet and laid it flat on the bed. It was a creamy off-white cotton, with a hint of pink. It dropped to midcalf and had a layer of tulle underneath the skirt—an extravagant use of material that would have been unthinkable only a year ago, when rationing and scarcity were just starting to give way. Large red cherries created a pattern, and a back zipper allowed for a smooth, uninterrupted front.

Hans removed his suit and his baggy, shapeless boxers, making a mental note to remember to take the clothes back to his own room, behind the kitchen. He spent the next half hour on underclothing and shapewear, then makeup, and finally a softly curling blonde wig that matched his natural hair color.

Hans was more comfortable dressed as a woman than he was dressed as a man. He always had been; it’s what got him in trouble back in Germany.

Dressed as a woman, Hans absolutely sparkled. His slight frame and delicate features fit Ada better than they fit Hans, and more than once he wondered what it would have been like to have been born as Ada. He’d met men who claimed to actually be women, deep inside, but he didn’t fully grasp that. At the heart of it, Hans liked being a man and being attracted to other men. He just liked dressing and acting like a woman sometimes.

It was enough for him.

The dress itself—the item everyone saw—was the easiest part but for the back zipper, which he managed eventually.

He slipped on square-heeled navy shoes, tied a gauzy pink scarf around his hair as protection against the breeze, and then headed out the door.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Author John Patrick is a Lambda Literary Award finalist living in the Berkshire Hills of Massachusetts, where he is supported in his writing by his husband and their terrier, who is convinced he could do battle with the bears that come through the woods on occasion (the terrier, that is, not the husband). An introvert, John can often be found doing introverted things like reading or writing, cooking, and thinking deep, contemplative thoughts (his husband might call this napping). He loves to spend time in nature—“forest bathing” is the Japanese term for it—feeling connected with the universe. But he also loathes heat and humidity, bugs of any sort, and unsteady footing in the form of rocks, mud, tree roots, snow, or ice. So his love of nature is tempered—he’s complicated that way. 

John and his husband enjoy traveling and have visited over a dozen countries, meeting new people, exploring new cultures, and—most importantly—discovering new foods.

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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

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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.

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