Showing posts with label Military. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Military. Show all posts

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Caught Off Guard by Beth Laycock

Author Beth Laycock and Gay Book Promotions celebrate new release, Caught Off Guard! Read more about the contemporary romance and enter in the giveaway for a chance to win an eBook from the author's back list and a $10 Amazon gift card!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Caught Off Guard

Author: Beth Laycock

Publisher: Rainbow Romance Press

Cover Artist: Free to be creative

Release Date: June 15, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, Military Romance

Tropes: Forced proximity, friends to lovers, brat MC

Themes: Hurt/comfort

Heat Rating:  4 flames  

Length:  approx 40 000 words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK 

He’d risk his life to find his brother. But he never expected to risk his heart.

Blurb

Three months since his brother went MIA, and Lane Matthews is tired of waiting for answers from overseas. Calling in a favour from his CO, he gets a posting to Jeddah—his first overseas deployment and where his brother was stationed—and the opportunity to try to find him.

Life in a foreign land isn’t quite as he imagined, and neither are his duties. And while his first encounter with his housemate, Tristan, may be memorable, it’s for all the wrong reasons.

Tristan catches him off guard but falling for the hot—straight?—soldier is definitely not in his future. Tensions rise as Lane gets closer to discovering the truth behind his brother’s disappearance, but even the best-laid plans can get swept off course and lost like a grain of sand in the desert. 

This MM military romance from Beth Laycock features an age gap, a bratty MC, forced proximity, hurt/comfort, and of course a HEA.

Excerpt 

The driver parked up, and I clambered out of the car as if I were waking from a dream—the heat a slap in the face after the blast of the AC. My CO, or who I assumed was my commanding officer, strode my way, every inch the army man with the stiff walk and straight back.

“Matthews?” He thrust a meaty hand at me, and I shook it as he crushed my palm in his.

“Yes, sir. Lane, Lane Matthews. The Duke of Lancaster’s regiment.”

“Major Tibbins. Glad to have you here. I won’t lie; we struggled to cover the last guard’s shifts when he left, so we’re happy to have you here.”

Guard? What guard? He released my hand and clapped me on the back. I staggered under the weight, catching myself before I stumbled.

“We’ll start you on gate duty in the hut you just drove past, but you’ll probably be able to rotate with the others soon. Anyway, I just wanted to welcome you, but I’ll let you get settled in. Reception has your accommodation details and duty roster. You’re not on until tomorrow afternoon, but I’ll swing by before then. Any questions, just let me know. I’m here to help you settle in.”

He waited a beat, but when all I could do was nod in response, he strode off, leaving me to stare after him, more than a little shell-shocked.

I shuffled into reception and waited as the man behind the counter spoke to a woman with a kid sat on her hip about the nursery. Army wife? Another woman popped up behind the desk before I could give it more consideration.

“Hi, can I help you?”

After a whirlwind of paperwork, I left with a set of keys and a folder of documents. I grabbed the map and followed the tarmac path-slash-road into a housing complex. I wound my way through the houses until I found mine in the corner and fumbled the key into the lock as I finished reading my roster.

After more years than I wanted to consider in the reserves, my first proper assignment would be as a guard. A glorified fucking babysitter. What the fuck? This was not how I imagined my first overseas posting with the army. Not leaving the compound all day. I wouldn’t be a soldier like my brother. How the hell was I going to find out what had happened to him—if he was even alive still—if I would be stuck in a hut all alone?

I needed to find the soldiers he served with, question them. Find out what they were doing to locate Jake. I couldn’t just wander onto their base, and I knew none of his teammates to ask. I was screwed. And I couldn’t help but wonder if Steve, my CO back home, and maybe my dad seeing as he went way back with Steve, had had a hand in keeping me on the compound. Probably with how Steve had helped me get posted here in the first place.

I slammed the front door shut with my foot, still staring at the goddamned piece of paper, and flung my rucksack to the floor. It knocked into the console table and rattled a can of pens. I slapped the handle of my suitcase down so hard the case fell over and crashed against the wall. A groan of frustration slipped out as I slumped against the doorway and buried my hands in my hair.

“You quite finished taking your tantrum out on my home?”

The deep voice had me jerking away from the wall as my eyes flew open. I’d thought I was alone. Why was there someone in my house? Wait, his home? “I wasn’t having a tantrum.”

One thin eyebrow arched in response and, yeah, sounding like a spoilt brat wasn’t my best defence. But then all reasonable thoughts disappeared as the surprise of someone else being there wore off and I took in the man standing before me.

A man I could’ve conjured straight from my spank bank: a couple of inches taller than my six feet and much, much broader than me. With his bare chest, it was all too easy to see just how ripped he was, and I licked my lips in response. His dog tags nestled in the valley between his pecs and my gaze wandered lower over each peak and dip of his abs and traced the veins disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts.

He cleared his throat and my gaze shot up to his, meeting dark brown eyes that seemed to mock me. Do not blatantly check out guys you’ve just met, Lane. Unless you want to get punched. Especially not a straight guy, if the edge to his glare was anything to go by. I gulped.

“It sure sounded like a tantrum.”

“I didn’t know anybody else was here.”

He smirked and a dimple appeared, softening the sharp angles of his jaw that was accentuated by the hard bristles of his beard. “So, it’s not a tantrum if you’re alone?”

About the Author 

Beth Laycock’s books are influenced by her time living overseas as well as the gritty, urban landscape of the north of England where she grew up. She has been reading romance since she was old enough to tell herself that line every book lover does—just one more chapter.

As a teenager, she attempted to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf. It wasn’t until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasn’t stopped scribbling them down since. Beth’s muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she can turn caffeine into words.

 Beth’s books range from sweet to sexy, long to short, contemporary to paranormal, but a HEA is always guaranteed.

Social Media Links

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Giveaway 

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Review: Sailor Proof (Shore Leave #1) by Annabeth Albert

The sexy Navy chief and his best friend’s adorkable little brother…

It’s petty, but Naval Chief Derrick Fox wishes he could exact a little revenge on his ex by showing off a rebound fling. His submarine is due to return to its Bremerton, Washington, home base soon and Derrick knows all too well there won't be anyone waiting with a big, showy welcome.

Enter one ill-advised plan…

Arthur Euler is the guy you go to in a pinch—he's excellent at out-of-the-box solutions. It's what the genius music-slash-computer nerd is known for. So when he finds out Derrick needs a favor, he’s happy to help. He can muster the sort of welcome a Naval Chief deserves, no problem at all.

Except it is a problem. A very big problem.

When Arthur’s homecoming welcome is a little too convincing, when a video of their gangplank smooch goes enormously viral, they're caught between a dock and a hard place. Neither of them ever expected a temporary fake relationship to look—or feel—so real. And Arthur certainly never considered he'd be fighting for a very much not-fake forever with a military man.



Set on making his ex jealous, Naval Chief Derrick Fox accepts help from his best friend’s younger brother, Arthur Euler. But the kiss that quickly goes viral does more than just get revenge - it also ignites a fire neither man expected.

Before they know it, the two men are locked in a temporary fake relationship at a family retreat, and it doesn’t take long for them to take full advantage of their private cabin.

Right off the bat, the setup was delicious. Opposites attract, best friend’s younger brother, and a fake relationship? Yes please!

From their first “fake” kiss, these two light some fireworks! And it only gets better. 10/10 for making the most of their unplanned proximity.

It also doesn’t hurt that Arthur and Derrick have a genuine emotional connection to go along with the physical from the get-go. They make the best of their awkward situation, and they do it with mutual respect and some laughs.

It was sweet how Derrick took all of Arthur’s concerns seriously, and that Arthur felt comfortable sharing how he felt about his family’s competitiveness. Even better, how both of them naturally began looking out for each other.

In just a few days, each private moment and shared confession leads to the “fake” relationship beginning to feel more and more real. It was adorable!

Did things move a bit quickly? Sure, but this is one of those romances where it makes complete sense, and where the main characters just click from the start.

This isn’t a particularly angsty romance. The big stumbling block is Derrick’s job, which takes him away from the US for long periods of time, and makes Arthur wary of a long-term relationship.

It takes some serious thought and a bit of time for both men to decide if what they have is worth the fight. And not surprisingly - it totally is!

The HEA was perfect in every way! Arthur and Derrick more than deserved their happy ending.

This was a great start to a new series from Annabeth Albert. If you’re looking for a sweet romance, some heat, and lots of good feels, give Sailor Proof a try!


A copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.


Release Blitz + Giveaway: Road to Revenge (Road to...#1) by Mell Eight


Author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing returns with a new release blitz for Road to Revenge (Road to...#1)! Discover more about the thriller and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Road to Revenge

Series: Road to..., Book One

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/09/2021

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 40600

Genre: Contemporary Thriller, LGBTQIA+, terrorism, religious extremism, secret agents, international espionage, revenge, military

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Description

Rafi only wanted to spend a relaxing day in Tel Aviv with his lover, Mihi. When a bomb goes off outside the restaurant where they stopped for lunch, killing several people and leaving Mihi in critical condition, Rafi vows to catch the culprits and make them pay. Set on revenge, Rafi accepts an assignment to infiltrate a group of humanitarians to figure out which of them was responsible—and to stop whatever they’re planning next.

Excerpt

Road to Revenge
Mell Eight © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Rehov Dizengoff, Tel Aviv

Mihi walked as though he was dancing, so smoothly my eyes couldn’t help tracking his hips as they wiggled so enticingly just ahead of me along the busy street. Dizengoff Street was one of the main shopping thoroughfares in Tel Aviv; the gigantic, two-story Dizengoff Mall took up two blocks on both sides of the street and was only a half mile away. We were on the end of the road closer to the beach, though, so we were surrounded by small shops and restaurants instead of cars.

The sidewalks were large, which was good because dodging daredevils riding their motor scooters was just one small part of walking in Israel. Another was dodging the water from dripping AC units hanging out of the apartment windows above every single shop. The third was dodging the stray animals and their leavings—Israel has a small problem with stray cats, mostly because there was minimal effort to contain the enormous population.

“How about this café?” Mihi called ahead of me, spinning gracefully on one heel to glance back at me. He saw the direction of my eyes and grinned impishly, twitching his hips again in a blatant invitation he knew I would eagerly accept when we returned to our private room in a nearby hostel.

But first we would have lunch and then we would spend the afternoon sitting on the beautiful beach watching the sunset. Then maybe we would take the long walk down to Jaffa for dinner, or maybe we could try a local falafel place. Falafel was the food of the Middle East, and Israelis knew how to fry up the chickpea mixture just right.

I followed Mihi into the little café, glad we were avoiding the chain café, Aroma, on the next corner. It was a relief to be inside, away from the heat of the day and the constant rumble of busses and honking of cars that filled Dizengoff Street to the brim. Mihi was already waiting for me at the counter, menu in hand and a grin on his face for my slower pace.

He was so beautiful, my Mihi, with his slightly curled brown hair flopping into his bright and happy brown eyes. His family was originally from the Romanian side of the Russian border before they fled the Holocaust and the Russian pogroms, so his skin was always just a shade tanned. He had managed to get the prominent cheekbones from his mother’s side of the family, which took a good bit of attention away from his father’s slightly hooked nose that sat in the center of Mihi’s otherwise flawless face. Mihi was perfect, and I couldn’t help smiling back at him as I joined him at the counter.

We ordered. Simple sandwiches because Israelis never ate truly large meals and therefore didn’t offer them even in a tourist-heavy area like Dizengoff. I followed Mihi to a table in the corner; it was right up against the glass window where we could people watch and cringe at the amazing stunts some of the drivers pulled to make their way through traffic.

Mihi took the better seat in the corner, where he could have his back to the blank wall and the entire window in front. I bent down to kiss him gently on the temple instead of taking the seat across from him.

“Bathroom,” I murmured into his ear before pulling away and heading toward the restroom sign in the very back of the shop. Mihi gave me another one of his impish smiles and waved me off. He was already setting out napkins so we could eat properly. One of the napkins fluttered to the ground as I pushed the bathroom door open, and I couldn’t hold back a tiny smirk. Mihi hadn’t noticed it yet, but I knew that napkin would be picked up and thrown away before I returned.

I took care of my business and was washing my hands when it happened. A loud thump made my ears ring. The building shook, the mirror in front of me cracked and splintered, plaster from the ceiling rained down on my hair, and then total silence.

Then: screams.

I stood in front of the sink, the water still running cold and clear over hands, frozen in place. My eyes were wide in shock, hazel blue set in Polish-pale skin. My light brown hair was flecked with white plaster dust. My entire face motionless within the cracked frame of the mirror, waiting while my brain processed what I’d just felt and heard.

Suddenly, I could feel my lungs aching, and as if that were a signal to turn back on, my body gasped for air. I shook as I spun away from the sink, the water still running, and rushed to the door. I flung it open to total chaos.

The warped and blackened frame of a number nine Dan bus burned at the bus stop outside. Bodies and body parts littered the sidewalk, blood leaking from below the twisted metal.

The front window of the café was shattered, glass strewn across the floor. None of the tables and chairs in front of me were still standing and there were bodies everywhere.

The person sitting closest to the blast was missing most of his head. I gagged, but fought throwing up as I pushed through the mess back toward the small table in the far corner.

People were moaning, bleeding, and dead around me, but I only had eyes for a particular crumpled table and chairs and the bare leg clad in a flowery bathing suit I could see poking out beneath the debris.

No one by the window could have survived that blast. My heart batted away the thought even as my brain supplied it.

The leg was still bleeding, shrapnel wounds marring the lightly tanned skin. It was attached to a torso hidden beneath the table. I threw that table off with all my strength, dropping to my knees at Mihi’s side.

He was still breathing, my brain supplied. My heart decided it would keep beating for the moment.

Clutched in one hand was that silly napkin dropped to the floor just moments before. I have never been so happy for Mihi’s little quirks. He must have been bending over when the blast went off and had been protected by the wall at his back. The table and chairs must have shielded him from the worst of it.

Mihi’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glazed with pain. He immediately found me.

“Mihi!” I gasped, one hand reaching out to cup his cheek. His ear was bleeding sluggishly onto my hand, but his cheekbone was unbroken.

“Rafi,” he whispered in a cracked and broken voice. His eyes slid shut again.

“Mihi!” I yelled. “Mihi, you’re going to be okay!”

Finally, I started to hear the sirens. People who had seen the blast were already trying to find the living, but they were still searching by the remains of the bus. All of them, from the helpers to the EMTs, were taking their very lives into their hands. Everyone knew the terrorists liked to set off one blast and then wait for the emergency crews to arrive before doing their best to destroy the ambulances and kill all the first responders—even more innocents dead to their horrible vendetta.

My Mihi didn’t have time for any of that foolishness. As one of the ambulances jumped the curb and drove onto the sidewalk I stood and started waving frantically.

“Here!” I screamed, frenzied and hopped up on fear and adrenaline. The driver saw me and pointed. Two men leapt out of the back of the truck and rushed over with heavy bags banging against their sides. They stepped directly through the empty window and dropped down at Mihi’s side.

One took Mihi’s vitals while another started pulling the remains of the chair and table away from Mihi’s body.

“Still alive,” the first one grunted in Hebrew, waving one hand for a woman setting up a stretcher to hurry over. They didn’t rush, but it wasn’t long before Mihi was strapped properly into the stretcher and was rolling off toward the ambulance. I followed along behind, like a lost puppy following his owner, and climbed into the ambulance behind Mihi.

Something in my face must have alerted the EMT woman already bending over Mihi, because she pointed toward a seat by the door. I took it and couldn’t help my flinch when the doors slammed shut behind me.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

 

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Against a Rising Tide by Samantha Cayto


Against a Rising Tide release blitz is here! Join author Samantha Cayto and Pride Publishing as they share info on the new contemporary romance! Discover more and enter in the giveaway for a chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card and Samantha Cayto book!

Against a Rising Tide By Samantha Cayto

General Release Date: 29th June 2021

Word Count: 54,881
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 194

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MEN IN UNIFORM

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Book Description


Love always finds a way.

Scott, a Navy SEAL, returns to his childhood beach house to deal with the emotional trauma of his latest mission. When a sniper killed his closest friend, Scott was left dealing with survivor’s guilt and the disturbing feeling that his friend meant more to him. He has always identified as strictly straight, attraction to men being something he has ruthlessly suppressed.

When he finds Kitt, a friend of his sister’s, hiding out from his abusive boyfriend, Scott is once again drawn to someone of his own gender. Although annoyed at the intrusion, Scott also instantly develops an interest in his unwanted houseguest. Keeping his distance is proving to be impossible and his growing desire for Kitt cannot be ignored.

Forced to leave home, Kitt entered into a relationship with a man who turned abusive. Having finally found the courage to escape, the last thing he wants or needs is another alpha male invading his space. But having nowhere else to go, he ends up staying with a man who disturbs him in more ways than one. As scary as the SEAL is, Scott is exactly the type of man Kitt dreams about.

The beach house is small, and the two men cannot avoid one another or the attraction between them. With each passing day, their bond grows stronger. Hesitation slowly gives way to passion. They need to trust their feelings and let go of the things that frighten them, to find safety and solace in each other.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, attempted murder, stalking, PTSD and references to death in a war zone, abusive parents and relationship abuse.

Excerpt

By the time Scott reached the beach house, visions of falling face-down in his bed swam before his eyes. He really should have checked into one of the airport hotels for the night instead of renting a car and heading north. But the driving need for solitude had overridden his better judgment. Even arriving in Boston at o-dark-thirty hadn’t thinned the crowds of people enough to satisfy his jangled nerves. He needed quiet and the mental space that came from being utterly alone to get his head screwed back on right. Otherwise, his time in the SEAL Teams would come to an end. The mere thought of having to leave his Naval career was intolerable to him.

He took a moment as he exited his rental SUV to simply stand and stare out over the ocean. The sun was just rising above the rippling blue-green water, washing the horizon in tones of red and orange. Seagulls screeched in their staccato fashion, as if they were in a constant state of agitation. He welcomed the familiar sound of their mindless scolding. The crash of waves against the rocky shore told him the tide was coming in. He took in a deep breath of salty air tinged with a hint of clam flats and smiled. All the joy of his childhood filled the aching hole that had formed in the middle of his chest. Coming here had been the right call. This was where he needed to be.

His exhaustion momentarily abated, Scott grabbed his duffel bag from the back of the SUV and walked up the stone path to the front door. There was no need to lock his vehicle, not in the low-crime town of Sewall, Massachusetts. It was barely more than a spit of rocky land and had never developed the cachet of its neighbors like Rockport as a fashionable seaside town. It attracted no one other than the dedicated perennial vacationer and was the perfect place to hide away for a while without fear of disturbance. His sister wouldn’t haul her brood up from the suburbs of Boston until August. He could be sure of having the place all to himself…to be alone.

Safe.

No, where had that thought come from? He was a SEAL, for God’s sake. There was nowhere on Earth that he didn’t feel as if he could protect himself. And he understood better than most that death was always lurking around, regardless. One only had to be ready to face it. Defeat it. If necessary, accept it when options had truly run out, but only after fighting to the very last breath. He took in another deep lungful of brisk ocean air with that last thought, irritated at his dark, almost defeatist attitude.

I need sleep. That’s all.

Scott almost sprinted to the seafoam green door, fumbled with the keys to open it and stepped inside the cool, quiet house of his childhood…that was not empty.

He froze inside the doorway and stared at the vision that greeted him. His mind did all kinds of acrobatics as he tried to make sense of what he saw. With the open floorplan of the first floor, he had a clear view of a naked woman standing in the kitchen. She was reaching up to a shelf filled with bowls, her toned arm stretched high. A curtain of long, dark hair swung below her shoulder blades, catching his attention. He followed the movement past the tapered ends, down a slender back of creamy skin accentuated by some kind of colorful tramp-stamp.

The tattoo skimmed a high, tight ass that held his gaze like a magnet. His overtired brain popped and snapped with a sudden spark of need. As exhausted as he was, his body came alive, desire shooting through him to pool in his groin. Even as an involuntary grunt passed his lips, the more rational part of his mind took over. It was trying to put on the brakes because something was off. The woman’s hips were too straight, and her shoulders were a bit broad. As the pieces clicked into place, the beach house inhabitant whirled around with a sharp inhalation. Now, the cock and balls of the man came literally swinging into view.

Scott’s own cock was caught between hardening and deflating again. He could feel it waging a war inside his worn jeans for a few seconds before it gave up in a semi-hard state that he ignored. Nothing to see here, folks. It was the other man’s reaction that caught and held his focus. Across the large expanse, there was visible fear in the dark eyes staring back at him. And the guy did nothing to hide his genitals. Instead, one hand had flown to the base of his throat in a clear defensive gesture. He whipped the other up to hold against his left cheek. But the quickness of the move hadn’t stopped Scott from seeing a livid bruise that marred the pretty skin there.

“Who?” The young man blinked at him for a few seconds, breathing quickly, before he visibly relaxed. “Oh, you’re Karen’s brother, aren’t you?” Although he dropped the one hand from his throat, he didn’t let go of his cheek entirely. Instead, he carded his fingers through his hair, letting the strands hide that half of his face. “She said you were overseas.”

“I was.” Scott stepped fully into the house and shut the door behind him before setting his duffel on the floor. He was careful to keep his movements slow. He’d dealt with petrified villagers plenty of times and knew he had to prove that he wasn’t a danger to them. Build trust. While he was at a loss as to why exactly, he could sense this man needed the same kind of consideration.

“I just got back and have two weeks’ leave.” Not that it had been his idea.

“Take the time, Carpenter. There’s no shame in needing it after what you’ve been through.”

“Yes, sir.”

He’d known an order when he’d been given one, but he still felt some guilt about lying around on a beach while others were out there fighting on his behalf. He pushed those thoughts aside to deal with the more pressing matter. Before he could ask the who, what and why, the naked man was talking again.

“I guess Karen didn’t know that. She said I could stay here until she comes up with her kids.” He dropped his gaze, while still tugging at his hair in nervous fashion.

Scott approached the kitchen area, again keeping his movements slow and non-threatening. “I was going to call her later.” He stopped and hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “I’m sorry. You have me at a disadvantage. Do I know you?”

The young man flashed his gaze at him before skittering it away. Now that he was closer, Scott could see that his eyes weren’t entirely brown. There was a hint of green there as well. Hazel, he supposed, although he’d never given much thought to eye color before. He forced himself to focus on them, however, because the alternative was to stare farther south. There was a temptation to sneak peeks at parts of the man’s body. He’d always studiously avoided that urge before. He saw more naked men than he did women, that was for sure, and in a military environment where privacy was non-existent, one had to be respectful. Inside a quaint New England house, with the muted dawn shining through the window, making everything soft and almost romantic, the nudity was harder to ignore.

“I’m Kitt Tyler.”

Scott’s attention was tugged back to Kitt’s face—although really, to his lips. He couldn’t help noticing how plump and pink they were. ‘Generous’ was the word that came to mind, like those of old-time movie starlets—the type of mouth that combat men dreamed of kissing as they lay in their makeshift beds. It was what got them up again, fighting for their country. That observation startled him even more. What the hell is my problem? Exhaustion, that was all. What he needed was a solid eight horizontal hours uninterrupted, and that wasn’t going to happen until he wrapped up this unexpected meet-and-greet.

“You’re a friend of Karen’s?” Kind of a dumb question.

Kitt gnawed briefly at his lower lip, once again drawing Scott’s unwilling attention to that spot. “Yeah, I am, but also her hairdresser. I mean, that’s how we first met, and we’ve become friends, too. You know?”

No, Scott didn’t…at all. The last thing he and his sister ever talked about was hair styling, although she always looked great. He knew that she prided herself on being elegant and fashionable for her job as a publisher for some glossy, high-end magazine. She had him on her subscription list, which was sweet, except it all went straight into his trash. What did he care about trendy places to eat in Boston and the best store for thousand-thread-count sheets?

“Anyway,” the guy continued, still playing with his hair and darting his gaze around. “She has like a million pictures of you at home, so I recognized you straight off.”

Not exactly true. For a moment, when he’d turned and caught sight of Scott, Kitt had obviously been afraid. Of what? Scott wondered. Or rather…whom?

Scott ran a hand over his head. The need for sleep was overtaking his initial and visceral reaction to this unexpected guest. “I’m sure she’s bored you to tears with stories about me, too.” His sister was proud of his service, although he feared that she’d put him on a pedestal he didn’t deserve, certainly not after this last deployment.

A ghost of a smile graced Kitt’s lips. That was the moment when it hit Scott that this young man was utterly gorgeous—at a he-could-be-a-model level. Although, he was probably too short for that profession. He was about five-seven, just the right height to tuck into Scott’s shoulder. The new observations sent his brain into another unwanted spasm of discord.

“She has a bit, but I think it’s great how close you two are.” Releasing his hold on his hair, Kitt fluttered his hands and shifted his feet. “Anyway, I’ll pack up and get out of your way. It, um, might take a while for me to get a Lyft driver to come here this early, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“You don’t have a car?” Another stupid question. The driveway had been empty when he’d pulled up.

“No. Um, no.” Kitt stared at the floor again.

Scott could see the distress in the guy’s posture and read it in his expression. He knew when someone was afraid, nervous or angry, even when they tried to hide it from him. He could tell when they were lying about something. Kitt Tyler wasn’t merely a friend of his sister who needed a free summer vacation. There was more to it than that, and given the guy’s skittishness and that bruise on his cheek, Scott could make an educated guess what that more was.

For the moment, however, he was incapable of any further rational thought. He needed that eight hours, then he’d deal with the situation.

“Look,” he said, repressing a yawn. “I’ve been awake for over forty-eight hours straight. I’m going upstairs to get some sleep. No need for you to leave yet. We’ll talk later.”

Kitt’s relief was easy to see. Still, he said, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Scott turned to retrieve his duffel bag from by the door.

“Oh, I should get dressed now so that I don’t disturb you.”

Too late on that score. “I can sleep through anything, but thanks.”

He made himself not watch as Kitt flitted up the stairs. He didn’t rush when he followed, either, so that he wouldn’t see any more of that undeniably tantalizing flesh. His plan worked. By the time he’d reached the second floor, his sister’s guest had disappeared into the far back room. The sounds of a drawer opening and closing drifted down the narrow hallway. Scott bit back a groan when he realized that Kitt had taken his usual room. That thought had barely formed before the guy popped back out, wearing crotch-hugging cut-off jeans and a tight white crop top. The clothing wasn’t much better than the nudity had been at hiding the guy’s fit physique. Oh, and bonus, now that Scott wasn’t studiously averting his gaze, he could see a belly button ring winking from the flat stomach.

“I took one of the kid’s rooms, if that’s okay?” Kitt looked impossibly young himself. What was the minimum age to be a hairdresser, eighteen? The guy must be straight out of school.

Scott didn’t bother to correct him. Visions of Kitt lying in Scott’s bed were already creeping into his brain. Instead, he waved the issue away and turned into what had been his parents’ old room. Karen and her husband used it now, but she obviously wasn’t coming up any time soon. He may as well bed down in it. He kicked the door shut with more force than he’d intended, but the lure of the big brass bed was irresistible. Stumbling toward it, he did as he’d dreamed of for hours—fell face-down onto the quilt his grandmother had made. He had just enough brainpower left to kick off his sneakers before giving in to the pull of sleep.

His last thought, however, was of the pretty boy at the end of the hall, silhouetted by the glint of the rising sun.

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About the Author

Samantha Cayto

Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever.

She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don't understand why they can't read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.

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Re-Release Blitz + Giveaway: No Flag (After Everything #1) by Liz Borino


Author Liz Borino and IndiGo Marketing host re-release blitz for No Flag (After Everything #1)! Check out more about the contemporary romance and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: No Flag

Series: After Everything, Book One

Author: Liz Borino

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/07/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 67100

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, family-drama, military, war, violence, terrorists, disabilities, amputee, bartender, Dom/sub relationship, domestic discipline, OCD

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Description

Captain Mike Kelley does not ignore his intuition, so when sexy bartender Will Hayes captures his heart, Mike embarks on a mission to win him over to a Domestic Discipline relationship. Will accepts with one caveat: Mike must promise not to renew his army contract.

Mike agrees, until the army invokes the stop-loss military policy to involuntarily extend his commission and send him back overseas, rendering him powerless and threatening everything he and Will have built. Will, left alone to cope with a new café, must rely on the support of old friends who may no longer be trustworthy.

A horrific terrorist attack on Mike’s outpost changes everything, leaving them both at a loss.

Mike awakens in a hospital with a devastating injury and no recollection of the attack. As the only survivor, his memory may be the key to national security. Mike struggles to cope with his injury and Will struggles with his new role in Mike’s life.

For Mike and Will, “No Flag” meant “come home alive.” Will has Mike back rather than a folded flag, but in the aftermath of war, can they rebuild the life they had before?

Excerpt

No Flag
Liz Borino © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
The News

July 7, 2012

Bombs exploded on the evening news, one after the other. Body parts flew past the camera. The headline across the bottom of the screen read: “20 Army Intelligence Officers Dead.”

“Early this morning, a bomb exploded in the Army Intelligence building, killing twenty American soldiers from Platoon 518,” the blonde newswoman reported.

Will Kelley squinted as the fuzzy security images played behind the woman’s head, searching through the chaos for reassurance. Nothing. His heart pounded and he tried to swallow but found only dry air in his mouth and throat. The female reporter described the weapons used and structural damage done in vivid detail, which made for sensational television, but failed to answer any questions for the people at home. Victims’ families had to be notified before the media could release their names. So, Blondie would lose her job if she read the list in front of her.

“What the hell are you doing, man? We open in thirty minutes and you’re watching television?” Seth, his roommate, demanded from the doorway of the living room.

“Answered your own question, didn’t you?” Will responded.

“Are you ready?”

“No.” Will did not take his eyes off the screen. “I’ll drive myself.”

“When?”

The report flashed to an increase in allergies in children, so Will switched to another station while typing “Attack on American S2 Building in Afghanistan” into Google. It wouldn’t be that easy though. So, Will tried several more combinations of search terms before finding a video shot by an insurgent involved in the attack. The camera shuddered. Focused on different areas of the chaos. Men ripping clothes off soldiers. Looting. Bodies blown to bits. A man removing computer hard drives. And only one face. On the severed head of Major Evans.

“Will!” Seth jabbed him in the shoulder with a pen. Will forced his eyes away from the computer. “What happened?”

“Mike’s platoon was attacked. Twelve survivors.”

“Shit,” Seth said. “Can you call…?”

Will took a slug from the nearby water bottle. “Who? No one will talk to me. I’m not my husband’s family.”

Seth stared at him for a long moment and said, “I’ll have Casey cover for you.”

Will stood and shook his head. “Why? I can’t do anything here except watch the same videos over and over. May as well see if I can make some money.” He shut his computer and set it on the side table. “Meet you there. I won’t be too late. Promise.” He had to stop himself from scoffing as the meaningless word left his lips.

“Will…” Seth began.

“You wanted me to move, I’m moving! Go. I’ll be there.” He walked toward his bedroom, Seth’s gaze burning into his back. Stopping to throw a glance over his shoulder, he added, “Don’t tell Casey. I can do without her mother-henning me.”

“Will…”

“Please, Seth.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” Will climbed the steps and closed his bedroom door. He leaned against the wood cutting him off from the rest of the world. His gaze roamed the four walls decorated with art prints, a whiteboard, and his wedding picture. Will strode over and fingered the golden frame. Behind the glass lay a photograph of Will and Mike in tuxes in the middle of their first dance. Their smiles easily outshone the gold on the frame. Mike had always been handsome with broad, built shoulders and muscular pecs, leading to abs you could grate cheese on.

But none of that stood out to Will, not on their wedding day of the year before. Mike’s blue eyes radiated a strength and hope. Will removed his wedding band to read the promise inscribed: No Flag.

Please keep your promise, Mike, Will thought as he took a deep breath and tore himself away from the picture and the crushing memories it brought. He had a job to do tonight.

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Meet the Author

Liz Borino has been telling stories of varying truthfulness since she was a child. As an adult, she keeps the fiction on the page. She writes stories of human connection and intimacy, in all their forms. Her books feature flawed men who often risk everything for their love. When Liz isn’t writing, she’s waking up early to edit, travel, and explore historic prisons and insane asylums—not (usually) all in one day. Liz lives in Philadelphia with her two cats.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Coup and the Prince by Mell Eight


The Coup and the Prince
release blitz is live! Join author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing in the celebration! Read more about the fantasy romance and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: The Coup and the Prince

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 05/17/2021

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 19900

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, royalty, kidnapping, war, poverty, law enforcement, military, revenge, prostitution

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Description

The coup should have been simple: oust the tyrannical regents and restore the rightful heir to the throne. No one expected the rightful heir to be dead, or for his younger brother to be missing. The search for the missing prince is important, but not as important as putting the destroyed country back together. At least, that’s what Aiden thinks until he stumbles on a terrible crime ring and a pair of beautiful green eyes that might just derail everything he’s been working towards.

Excerpt

The Coup and the Prince
Mell Eight © 2021
All Rights Reserved

One
Aiden

Meetings, meetings, meetings! His whole life was meetings!

Aiden was going to go mad, screaming and hair pulling included, if he had to go to another meeting. As if that weren’t bad enough, after the endless rounds of meetings, he had paperwork. Endless bloody stacks of paperwork. For every piece he finished, another fucking dozen appeared on his desk. He couldn’t escape from it all. He was a frigging soldier, not a paper pusher, and he hated sitting still. His new position as captain of the guard required he attend to his new duties, rather than actually being out in the city where the real work was, but Aiden was thinking of stuffing it all and running away.

In fact, that sounded like a great idea. Fuck them all anyway. He deserved a long weekend off. Aiden slammed his pen down on his desk, glad to have his decision made, and stood with a violent shove of his chair.

“I’m done for the day,” he snapped to his shocked-looking secretary across the room.

Ernest nodded. Aiden had worked with Ernest long enough to know Ernest would have blindly agreed even if Aiden had declared he was off to fuck a duck, but Ernest didn’t mind the damned paperwork, so Aiden kept the kid around anyway.

“It’s after midnight, sir,” Ernest replied softly. “Shall I hold your appointments until tomorrow afternoon?”

Aiden winced at the thought of having any more meetings. “Push them until Monday morning. I should be able to think straight by then.” If he had to go to another meeting any earlier than Monday, he might actually snap and strangle someone.

Ernest nodded in agreement again and quickly made a note in the ledger on his desk before jumping up to help Aiden with his coat.

“What should I tell Major Trell, sir, if he comes calling?” Ernest asked before Aiden could fasten his buttons and get out the door to freedom.

“Tell the old bastard that he should have planned a little better before he threw his coup, and anything that goes wrong in my absence is his fault,” Aiden snapped as he wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him.

A muffled “Yes, sir” sounded from behind the door.

“And take tomorrow off too, Ernest,” Aiden yelled before stomping off.

Aiden didn’t go to his rooms in the castle. He could easily be found there and dragged off to something “vitally important” that Aiden didn’t give a fuck about. He needed to be out there doing, not sitting on his ass.

Before the coup, Aiden had led men. He had been in charge of keeping the city safe, catching criminals and murderers and putting them behind bars so people felt safe at night. He had loved the job and the men and women he had commanded. Trell, the bastard, had promised Aiden he could have his job back after the coup. Hell, that was one of the reasons Aiden had joined with Trell in the first place.

The coup had been a disaster, plain and simple. They had taken power back from the regents, yes, but instead of reinstating the heir like they had originally planned, they were stuck putting the country back together themselves.

Ten years before the coup, the king had started forgetting things. It was only recent edicts, meeting times, and simple things in the beginning, but five years ago, when he forgot the names of his wife and two sons, the physicians declared the king needed to be sequestered for his own safety.

The king’s oldest child was only fifteen at the time, so the council had chosen the grand duke and the queen to act as joint regents on behalf of the heir until he came of age. Given how quickly the councilors chose two people mostly unsuited for the task, Aiden had little doubt they had been bribed. Aiden would have let it go—that was politics after all—except then the council had allowed the regents’ excess to take over.

For the subsequent five years of the regents’ rule, food, goods, and a lot of money had gone into the castle and only bodies had come out. Taxes were raised, and the crown stopped paying for the goods it consumed. Prices for wheat skyrocketed after a late-summer storm wiped out much of one year’s crops, and the crown demanded more instead of helping the people it served.

The last straw for Aiden had been when the city guard had been disbanded. His beloved troops were left penniless and without prospects, as was he for that matter. When Trell approached Aiden, Aiden had been more than happy to lend his influence to the coup.

The queen and the grand duke had been killed in the fighting. The king had survived the coup, somehow. Trell and Aiden had gone to see him once the castle was secured and found a clueless and helpless child in place of the strong man Aiden remembered.

Trell had always planned to reinstate the king’s heir to the throne, not take power himself—which was why he was still considered a major despite the fact he was basically running the country—but when they broke into the heir’s room, they had found him lying in bed, dead. His body had been left where he had been murdered, and when Trell’s soldiers entered the room months later, they found a bloated and decaying mass of nearly indistinguishable flesh. No doubt the regents had claimed he was “indisposed” or something equally indelicate to keep anyone from asking questions, and removing the prince from the picture had also removed anyone who might have had the power to protest the regents’ actions.

The king’s younger son and only other child had never been located, had in fact been missing since the regents took power, which meant the task of putting the city and country back together after five years of mismanagement fell to Trell and Aiden. It also meant that, while the city guard had been reinstated, Aiden couldn’t be there for his troops until everything else had also been cleaned up. Instead, he was stuck with the bloody paperwork.

Still, one night walking the beat would go far to lift his spirits. Aiden couldn’t stop a small smile from stretching his lips at the thought. One night to remind him what he was working so bloody hard to achieve might even reground him. The sooner he finally got through those endless fucking piles of paperwork, the sooner he could return to the job he actually liked.

He did try to keep abreast of some of the cases that were baffling his troops. Ernest put together a weekly report for him, and Aiden always found the time to read it. The most distressing one on the list was the ring of underage prostitutes. Ordinarily it would be easy enough to find the pimp and arrest him and then find safe homes for the kids being abused, but there were mitigating circumstances. No one could actually locate the pimp, for one, and for another, any time one of the kids actually spoke to the guard they were found with their throats slit the next morning.

Aiden wasn’t in uniform, and it had been quite a few years since he had been able to patrol the lower city; maybe his face wouldn’t be recognized. He could easily pretend to be just another man out looking for a suck and a poke.

With his plans firmly in mind, Aiden finished sneaking out of the castle and headed into the city proper. He had a small townhouse where he would change clothes into something more disreputable and then go see what delights the lower city had to offer him.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Review: Afloat (Staying Afloat #3) by Isabelle Adler

No place is safe anymore.

Matt and his crew know it all too well—and it’s especially true now as the war with the Alraki has reached the heart of Federation space and struck close to home. Suddenly, Matt is faced with a difficult choice. He has the opportunity to sway the tide of the war and rectify a past wrong by helping the Fleet obtain a groundbreaking Alraki technology. But to do so, he must risk his ship and the lives of his crewmates.

With Matt’s archenemy, the infamous Captain Rodgers, still on the loose and bent on revenge, the Alraki aren’t the only ones who pose a deadly threat to Matt and the people most dear to his heart. With danger and betrayal haunting their steps, Matt and Ryce must find a way to save their friends even as sinister secrets from the past threaten to tear them apart.

This time, the price of staying afloat might be higher than what Matt is willing to pay.


A seriously satisfying space adventure!

What I’ve come to realize about this trilogy is that this is all about Matt and his journey. He’s a guy who grew up in a military family, who couldn’t handle or didn’t want to handle authority, who became disillusioned and wanted no part in being simply a tool. Thus, Matt left the Federation and his family and hasn’t really looked back. He’d say he’s a loner, one who doesn’t care about anything but making the next dollar, but that would be a lie. As much as he may protest, Matt has an extremely strong moral campus when push comes to shove, not to mention loyalty to his crew of three, which happens to include his lover Ryce, a genetically modified superhuman whose skills often come in oh so handy. Matt’s living life by his own rules, despite many disgruntled adversaries who make it difficult for him to make an honest living, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

One day, Matt gets a call from his sister’s first officer. She’s a major in the Federation and has been gravely injured in an alien Alraki skirmish, so much so that he might want to come and possibly say his goodbyes just in case.... and thus, this brings Matt full circle, returning him to the fold and up close and personal with his estranged admiral of a father. Somehow, Matt finds himself recruited for a suicide mission as lives, mainly humanity in its entirety, hangs in the balance when it’s discovered that the Alraki enemy has powerful technology that could turn the war in their favor. Reluctantly, Matt and his crew join a special ops team to steal a prototype to help even the odds, and that’s when things get hairy.

In and amongst this covert operation, it becomes known that despite his often fatalist attitude and his own self hatred of past mistakes, Matt’s brand of resilience serves him very very well in times of extreme life threatening situations. This makes for very intense storytelling that has been consistently seen throughout all 3 books. Ensue fingernail biting action as they fight aliens, encounter government cover ups, suffer betrayals on the highest order, and undergo death defying stunts, all in and amongst some swoony romance. Toss in the return of a most vile enemy who just won’t fucking die, and Matt and Ryce must trust in each other (as well as the rest of their team) to pull out all the stops to possibly maybe have a chance at surviving.

So, in the spirit of any good space saga a’la Star Trek and/or Star Wars, the stakes are sky high, the probability of failure is basically a forgone conclusion but remember, smarts, pure grit, and lots of luck go a long way.

Obviously, I quite enjoyed myself, and Adler delivers a gratifying conclusion to this story arc. I urge you to start with Adrift, in the hopes that she might get a second wind and tell more stories of Matt and his scrappy crew. I suspect there’s plenty of trouble they can get themselves into without even looking. One can only hope.




Blog Tour + Giveaway: Afloat (Staying Afloat #3) by Isabelle Adler

It's the final day of the Afloat (Staying Afloat #3) blog tour! Author Isabelle Adler and IndiGo Marketing host an exclusive excerpt, as well as more info about the series finale! Read more and enter in the $10 NineStar Press gift code giveaway!

Title: Afloat

Series: Staying Afloat, Book Three

Author: Isabelle Adler

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/15/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 70900

Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, sci-fi, spaceships/pilots, action-adventure, space battles, abduction, aliens, alien ships, bisexual, demisexual, military

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Description

No place is safe anymore.

Matt and his crew know it all too well—and it’s especially true now as the war with the Alraki has reached the heart of Federation space and struck close to home. Suddenly, Matt is faced with a difficult choice. He has the opportunity to sway the tide of the war and rectify a past wrong by helping the Fleet obtain a groundbreaking Alraki technology. But to do so, he must risk his ship and the lives of his crewmates.

With Matt’s archenemy, the infamous Captain Rodgers, still on the loose and bent on revenge, the Alraki aren’t the only ones who pose a deadly threat to Matt and the people most dear to his heart. With danger and betrayal haunting their steps, Matt and Ryce must find a way to save their friends even as sinister secrets from the past threaten to tear them apart.

This time, the price of staying afloat might be higher than what Matt is willing to pay.

Afloat is the third book in Isabelle Adler’s exciting debut series, Staying Afloat, and concludes the series. For best enjoyment, advise reading the books in order.

Excerpt

Afloat
Isabelle Adler © 2021
All Rights Reserved

“Can’t wait to get the hell out of here,” Matt muttered to himself.

A Federation space map slowly revolved on the large canopy screen, illuminating the darkened bridge with the light of distant stars. A red dot flashed sedately at the very edge of the map, marking their current location. The Elysium system was as remote as an inhabited corner of the galaxy could possibly be.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, “remote” didn’t always mean “out of harm’s way.”

Matt set the empty coffee mug on the edge of the console and leaned back, linking his hands behind his head as he considered the vastness of the galaxy, sprawled before him in all its unassuming majesty. At first glance, it appeared to hold endless possibilities, but as it turned out, they were unfortunately limited by constraints that had nothing to do with Matt’s dreams and preferences. Even the parts of the galaxy ostensibly under Federation control weren’t always safe for humans, and out of those, quite a large number of places weren’t safe for him personally.

“Permission to come on the bridge,” a voice chimed over the speaker. Matt smiled and spun around in his chair to greet Ryce as he walked in.

“So formal. Are you going to salute me next and call me ‘Captain’?”

Ryce grinned back at him and leaned down for a quick kiss before sitting beside him in the copilot seat.

“Now who’s being kinky? I thought adherence to a chain of command wasn’t your thing.”

“It’s not. But it’d still be nice to get some respect around here.”

“Knowing your crew, there’s not much chance of that,” Ryce remarked and cocked his head as he studied the map. “Have you been here all morning?”

“Pretty much. And where were you? I didn’t see you at breakfast.”

“I was playing chess with Val in the rec room.”

“Really? Two geniuses playing chess? Could you be any more cliché?”

“Neither of us is technically a genius,” Ryce observed, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“Close enough from where I stand.”

“Val and I have also tested the new power converter for the engine, and, as far as he’s concerned, it’s all systems go.” The digitalized starlight reflected in Ryce’s eyes as he pulled up the specs at the bottom of the screen, making Matt’s attention momentarily slip. “We can be out of this system the second you decide where we’re going. Have you?”

Matt sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His auburn locks had grown a bit too long for his taste, but with everything that’d been going on lately—namely, his engineer having been kidnapped and his pilot having been roped into participating in deadly drag races—he hadn’t had a chance to cut them.

“Not really. Since we’ve changed registration twice in one year already, there are only so many sectors where we could apply for a working permit, and a lot of the others are now a warzone. This whole war business is a real nuisance when you’re on the run.”

“Do you think Griggs is still after us?” Ryce asked. “It has been rather quiet lately.”

“I don’t know, but I’m not planning on hanging around much longer to find out.”

Griggs, the black-market king of the Freeport 73 station, was the man behind their crew’s recent misadventures, and though they’d managed to strike an uneasy truce, Matt wasn’t naive enough to believe the crime lord would swallow the bitter pill of blackmail without some kind of payback. Having to—literally—piece his engineer back together was more than enough incentive for Matt to look for opportunities elsewhere.

“Tony says we’re due a vacation, and for once, I tend to agree with her. We’ve all been through some tough shit in the past few months, and we all deserve a break while we have the cash to afford it. But before we go booking that luxury resort stay on Nova, I’d like to have all my bases covered.”

Matt shook his head and looked at Ryce.

“What about you? Is there anywhere you’d like to go, even if it’s just for a little while?” he asked gently, reaching out to stroke the other man’s hand. “Have you considered getting in touch with your mother?”

“I don’t think it’s time for that yet,” Ryce said, looking away. “I’m grateful for the money she sent me, of course, but it still doesn’t mean she wants to see me.”

There was something evasive about the way he said it, as if he wasn’t completely sure or completely truthful in his answer.

“Okay,” Matt said slowly.

It really wasn’t his place to pry or push Ryce into being more open about this particular subject; God knew, Matt was prickly about discussing his own family with other people. But he couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was silly, really, but there he was, unable to hold back a frown because it implied Ryce didn’t trust him enough to share something a little more personal.

But his disappointment was his hang-up, not Ryce’s. So instead of quietly sulking, Matt squeezed Ryce’s hand in reassurance. The feel of Ryce’s skin against his was still wondrous to him, despite them spending barely any time apart, his own private miracle. Not only because he still couldn’t quite believe a man like Ryce could love someone as flawed as him, but because after everything they’d been through, they were incredibly fortunate to be alive to enjoy their happy ever after. This was what he should be focusing on, not some imaginary slights he was learning to recognize as self-sabotage.

Ryce smiled and covered Matt’s hand with his own, his cool touch sending sparks of excitement down Matt’s spine. “What are you thinking? You have that funny look on your face.”

“Must be the aftermath of last night’s dinner.”

Ryce scoffed. “You didn’t have to be quite so unequivocal about how bad you thought it was,” he chided, but there was a spark of laughter in his eyes.

“I’m actually glad you suck at cooking. Just goes to show nobody can be perfect at everything. And if you’re not perfect, there’s hope for the rest of us mortals.”

“Remind me to gloat with the same level of delight when I discover something you suck at.”

“So pretty much anything?”

“I can think of a few things you’re good at,” Ryce murmured, sliding from his seat and onto Matt’s lap in a fluid motion.

Matt’s heart sped up. He pulled Ryce closer, greedily drinking the kiss as he closed his eyes and lost himself to the whirlwind of stars around him.

He slid his hand over the front zipper of Ryce’s fatigues, but then Ryce withdrew abruptly, frowning, and touched the adapter on his temple, the one linked to Lady Lisa’s computer.

“There’s an incoming call,” he said.

“They’ll call later,” Matt said impatiently. Whoever it was, they could damn well wait another ten minutes. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

“It’s a military channel.” Ryce’s frown deepened, and he stood up to sit back in the copilot seat.

“Damn it.” Matt sat up in his chair, pushing down on his arousal and frustration. His disdain for authority didn’t extend as far as ignoring contacts from the military. This could be Nora, of course, but his sister rarely used encrypted communications simply to check up on him. “Bring it on-screen.”

The face that appeared in front of them wasn’t Nora’s, but it was familiar. The bright white background didn’t look like the bridge of a ship. Something beeped steadily just out of sight, jolting unpleasant memories of Matt’s several stays in medical facilities.

“Commander Walker,” Matt said, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “Not to sound rude or anything, but why are you calling?”

Matt had been questioned ad nauseam by the man almost eight months ago, after their unfortunate stint on the Colanta-3 moon and the discovery (and subsequent destruction) of a Mnirian superweapon. He hadn’t liked Walker then, and he wasn’t thrilled to see him now, but he couldn’t deny he owed the commander his life after being saved from a slow, oxygen-deprived death in the depths of the alien bunker.

“I’m contacting you on behalf of Major Cummings.” Walker sounded unusually subdued. The stress lines around his eyes and mouth seemed deeper, marring his otherwise classically handsome features. “I thought you should know your sister was gravely injured in the line of duty.”

Ryce’s sharp intake of breath indicated that Walker had said something terrible, but for some reason, the moments stretched and stretched until the meaning of the words finally registered in Matt’s brain, hitting him with the force of a freight barge.

“How gravely?” he asked, digging his fingers into the arms of his chair.

Walker pursed his lips. “Enough for me to contact you on my own initiative,” he said, his voice clipped.

“What happened?” Ryce asked while Matt was busy remembering how to breathe.

“We were deployed back in the Sonora sector, and our ship, the Lennox, was on her way from Freeport 16 to the Sonora-11 outpost when we were attacked.”

Even though they weren’t touching, Matt felt Ryce tense beside him.

“Attacked? By whom?”

“An Alraki frigate,” Walker said after a pause. “A torpedo took out a portion of the bridge. Major Cummings was lucky to be able to get out before the shields gave and the section was sealed off.”

Matt and Ryce exchanged a look. Judging by Ryce’s startled expression, the same thought must have occurred to him, one that made Matt’s stomach, already tied in knots by the news, lurch with awful premonition.

“I haven’t heard anything about the fighting reaching as far as Sonora,” Ryce said, frowning. “The military bases in this sector are designated mainly for training and redeployment.”

“It hasn’t,” Walker said. “This was…an isolated incident.”

“An Alraki frigate attacking a destroyer battleship in the heart of Federation space?” Matt said, barely recognizing his own voice for the strain. “That’s—”

“Disturbing. I know,” Walker said. For the first time since Matt had met the man, he looked troubled, but a second later, he visibly pulled himself together, as stern as ever in his officer uniform. “By rights, I shouldn’t even be telling you this. But I know how much your sister cares for you, and I thought you should be here by her side. Before it’s too late.”

Exclusive Excerpt – Afloat (Staying Afloat #3) by Isabelle Adler

Matt adjusted his face mask and looked around the dim cavern of the hold from where he was crouching next to Lady Lisa’s hull. The space around them seemed empty, the Alraki probably still busy fending off the Falcon fighters, but it didn’t mean they could dawdle. As loath as Matt was to leave his ship, eventually he’d have to make that first step into the belly of the beast and hope to God he wouldn’t be swallowed.

“Ready?” Ryce whispered beside him, and Matt nodded. Ryce’s face was half-obscured by the mask needed to adjust to the different oxygen and nitrogen levels inside the Alraki craft, but otherwise, they didn’t bother with any cumbersome protective gear, especially as the artificial gravitational pull was slightly higher than the regular 1 g. The environment wasn’t toxic, per se, just deeply…well, alien.

They ran across the floor, their feet bouncing softly on what felt like rubbery coating. Out in the open, the vibrations were much more pronounced but not strong enough to throw them off balance.

“Do you know where to go?” Matt whispered when they neared the tall arched doorway.

“Yes. I memorized the ship’s map from Walker’s briefing.” Ryce scanned the corridor in both directions, a blaster gun set on maximum impact at the ready.

“Of course you did. Watch out!”

They ducked, hiding behind opposite sides of the opening as several Alraki trotted down the corridor, their bio-mech armor creaking softly. Another party followed in their footsteps after less than a minute.

“They’re gonna spot us,” Matt said. “There’s no way we can evade them if they find us in the hallway, not without that fancy stealth armor.”

“You’re right. They’re on high alert now that Walker’s team has been compromised.” Ryce peered into the corridor again. Thin veins of reddish light ran through the curved walls, illuminating it. He gestured upward with his gun. “We’ll use the air ducts.”

Matt looked in the direction Ryce was pointing, at an opening in the ceiling covered with a ridged grate that made him think of gills. He shuddered involuntarily.

“Do you think the ducts are big enough for us?”

“Only one way to find out.” Ryce holstered his gun and stepped into the corridor, motioning for Matt to follow him. “Come on, I’ll give you a boost.”

Matt sighed. He didn’t think it was possible to like this mission any less, but every new development seemed to prove him wrong.

Ryce knelt on the floor and laced his fingers to make a support for Matt to step on. He pushed upward as Matt hoisted himself up, shoving hard at the grate. It had the same rubbery texture as the floor and the walls as if it were a part of a giant animal rather than an intelligently designed piece of machinery, which made him squeamish about touching it. With a bit of extra pressure, the grate gave, and Matt pushed it inward, grabbed the edge of the opening, and scrambled to slither inside as Ryce lifted his feet, giving him more leverage.

“Quick, someone’s coming,” Ryce warned.

Matt cursed and wiggled forward. The ventilation tunnel was just wide enough for a grown man to crawl inside, but it was hardly a comfortable fit, and its round shape was vaguely reminiscent of a corroded pipe or a blood vessel. Behind him, Ryce jumped, catching onto the edge of the hole as Matt had done before him, and heaved himself inside just as the footsteps of more Alraki soldiers echoed in the corridor below them.

They both held their breath, lying still as the aliens passed underneath them. Thankfully, none of them glanced up to notice the open grate.

“Now what?” Matt whispered after the Alraki retreated to a safe distance.

“Onward and upward,” Ryce said, deadpan.

Matt snorted, adjusted his mask again against the stronger flow of cold air blowing in his face, and pushed forward, putting his elbows to work.

They passed several more grates, spaced at what seemed like irregular intervals but which must have made sense for the Alraki. The advantage of the ducts not being made of metal was that the sound of their passage was much more muted and less likely to attract attention. Even so, they crawled in relative silence, with Ryce giving directions when the duct split. It was just as well because Matt didn’t have the slightest idea as to their location or which way they were headed, so he was more than happy to let Ryce take the lead, going on his recollection of the frigate’s layout. The ducts curved along with the corridors and the open spaces rather than running in straight lines, which made their progress more difficult, slowing them down.

Every minute they spent fumbling inside the alien ship’s guts was a minute Walker and his troops were fighting for their lives, and Tony and Val were sitting ducks aboard the captured Lisa. Matt didn’t dare switch on the communications channel so as to not be distracted by the noise. They had to pay close attention to what was going on directly below them, and the anxiety of not knowing what was happening in that sensor array room or the holding bay wore on his nerves.

“Wait,” Matt said, stopping. Ryce halted behind him. The tunnel ended abruptly, meeting with a vertical shaft. “Damn it.”

He peered up and down, both ends of the shaft lost in reddish gloom. The air rushed past him from below, making him squint.

“We go down,” Ryce said.

“That’s what worries me.”

Note on the series:

For best enjoyment, the books in the Staying Afloat series should be read in order:
Adrift (Staying Afloat #1)
Ashore (Staying Afloat #2)
Afloat (Staying Afloat #3)

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

A voracious reader from the age of five, Isabelle Adler has always dreamed of one day putting her own stories into writing. She loves traveling, art, and science, and finds inspiration in all of these. Her favorite genres include sci-fi, fantasy, and historical adventure. She also firmly believes in the unlimited powers of imagination and caffeine.

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