Release Blitz + Giveaway: Music from Stone (University Square #4) by Brenda Murphy

 

Title: Music from Stone

Series: University Square, Book Four

Author: Brenda Murphy

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/05/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 67900

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Romance, contemporary, family-drama, BDSM, interracial, lesbian, stone mason, concert pianist, stalker, PTSD, over 40, performance arts, visual arts

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Description

Celebrated concert pianist Nüwa Zhou had it all. Until she didn’t. Forced out of the closet while testifying at the kidnapping and murder trial of her obsessive former assistant turned stalker, she retires from the high-pressure world of performing to recover at her parents’ estate.

Stone mason, and frustrated sculptor Julia Johnson, spends her days stone building walls and patios while dreaming of quitting her day job.

After a chance encounter with Julia leads to more, Nüwa imagines a life with Julia. When her stalker returns, determined to kidnap Nüwa and end anyone who stands in his way, Nüwa will do whatever it takes to keep Julia safe, but will it be enough?

Excerpt

Music from Stone
Brenda Murphy © 2022
All Rights Reserved

“Who is Father talking to?” Nüwa Zhou stared out of the sliding door at the woman standing on the terrace, her short auburn hair a mass of curls that brushed the tops of her broad shoulders. Her stance was confident. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt tight enough it drew Nüwa’s attention, she rested her hands on her hips across from Gerald Zhou. Her wide shoulders and sculpted arms tested the limits of the fabric of her shirt. Afforded the opportunity to stare openly, Nüwa savored the view, admiring the curves the woman’s loose jeans failed to conceal. Slightly taller than Nüwa’s father in her thick-soled work boots, the woman glanced back at the house. Nüwa held steady, confident the reflective window coating would hide her gawking.

“Former student. Inquiring about the cottage,” her mother called from the kitchen bar.

Nüwa tugged the belt of her robe tighter. “Early for a meeting.”

The not-so-subtle sound of her mother’s scoff drifted across the kitchen. Nüwa rested her chin on her chest. The unspoken scolding for sleeping late pricked Nüwa’s heart. A night owl born to a family of larks. Her sleep patterns had been her curse since childhood.

She lifted her gaze back to the scene outside.

Gerald Zhou stood close to the woman, occasionally gesturing to the yard and the firethorn maze covering the lower half of their estate. Wind pushed dark heavy clouds across the sky and a gust rattled the sliding door in its dull aluminum frame. He turned and pointed to the house. Nüwa stepped back and away from the glass into the shadows of the living room. She walked to the counter dividing the kitchen from the rest of the house.

“Have you eaten?” Her mother glanced up from her laptop screen.

Nüwa took a breath and blew it out. “Not hungry.”

A frown creased her mother’s sculpted eyebrows. “Don’t forget to eat.” Her gaze shifted to the window. “Your father needs to wrap it up. I don’t like the color of the sky.”

Nüwa perched on one of the stools at the counter and glanced at the sky. A green hue tinged the dark clouds. “It’s ugly.”

Fat drops of rain hit the glass as the peal of a weather warning spit out of her mother’s ever-present phone. Nüwa’s stomach twisted as adrenaline surged in her body. Storms were the worst. Lightning flashed. Nüwa placed her hands flat on the counter and started counting silently.

“Four. Not far away.”

The click of the computer keys increased. “I need to get these figures to Rowan.” Her mother continued to pound the keyboard as another flash of lightning lit up the kitchen with a sick yellow glare.

The skin on Nüwa’s arms prickled. The grate of the sliding door in its tracks sounded in the room a second before a crash of thunder rattled the house.

“Three.” Nüwa turned to the sliding door. “It’s moving toward us.”

“It’s crazy out there. Wait it out with us.” Gerald touched the arm of the woman from the terrace. “You remember my wife, Lian Tan? I don’t think you’ve met my daughter. Nüwa, this is Julia.”

“Hi Ms. Tan, nice to see you again. Nice to meet you, Nüwa.” Julia inclined her head to greet Nüwa’s mother before she turned and met Nüwa’s gaze.

Nüwa stared at Julia, the thin wet fabric of the T-shirt even more distracting now Julia was standing in front of her. “You’re wet.” Her face burned as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I mean—” She scrambled around the end of the counter, snatched a clean dish towel from the basket next to the sink. “Here.” Nüwa held the towel out with both hands.

The tips of Julia’s fingers brushed the back of Nüwa’s hand as she took the towel from her. “Thank you.” She held Nüwa’s gaze for a moment, the hint of a smile twisting her lips before she dried her face.

Nüwa studied the tops of her house shoes and knotted her hands together as an awkward silence sucked the ease out of the moment. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself, knowing she was acting weird, helpless to stop it.

The faint sound of a tornado siren spared Nüwa further torment.

“Basement.” Lian stood, tucked her laptop and a thick folder under her arm, before she walked to the end of the counter. She pressed the series of buttons under the countertop. The end of the cabinet slid aside revealing a stairwell. Gerald followed Lian.

Nüwa slid off the stool and followed her parents down the stairs leading to the storm cellar. She ducked her head as she entered the stairway. “Watch your head,” Nüwa called over her shoulder.

Heavy tread on the stairs behind her and the faint scent of lavender and sunscreen tickled Nüwa’s nose as Julia followed her to the safe room. Halfway down the steps, the lights flickered out, plunging the stairwell and room below into blackness.

“Damn it. Gerald, where did you put the lantern?”

“Use your phone.”

“Left it on the counter, and didn’t we talk about this? Use your phone.”

Her parents shifted their bickering to Mandarin. Nüwa prayed Julia didn’t understand as they devolved into one of their ongoing arguments.

Nüwa extended her hand behind her, and her fingers bushed the soft denim of Julia’s jean. “Take my hand. Stay close. The stairs turn here.”

Julia clasped her hand. Her broad callused palm rested against Nüwa’s hand. Nüwa led Julia down the stairs and toward the sound of her parents arguing. As they reached the bottom of the stairs the harsh light of an electric lantern flared to life, throwing twisted shadows over the walls.

Gerald closed off the door leading to the rest of the basement, sealing them in the long narrow windowless room. “There. Nüwa, lock the door behind you.”

Nüwa threw the deadbolt and sealed the door leading up to the kitchen.

Lian stood at the far end of the room, the glower on her face matching the ferocity of the storm. Arms crossed, she lifted her chin as she observed Nüwa and Julia. Her gaze landed squarely on their clasped hands.

Julia squeezed Nüwa’s hand once, then released it. “Thank you.”

Lian turned away from Nüwa, picked up a yellow wireless radio, and shoved it into Gerald’s hands. “Get the weather radio working.”

The echo of hail pelting the house increased in volume and drowned out Gerald’s reply. A roaring sound filled Nüwa’s ears, a steady hum. The hairs on her arm stood on end. Pressure in her ears increased to the point of pain and she swallowed, trying to clear them.

The ceiling over their head creaked and groaned as the vibration intensified. The house shook, rattling the shelves holding the food and water they kept stored in the small room. Nüwa wrapped her arms around herself to stop her trembling. Cans of food vibrated off the shelves and crashed to the floor, wrenching a cry from her, and she covered her eyes.

A warm hand settled on the middle of her back. Nüwa jerked away from the touch and bit down on her lip to stifle her yelp. The roaring increased, as if a train was bearing down on them. Nüwa dropped to her knees, covered her head with her arms, and folded herself into the smallest ball possible. The thin carpet over the concrete did nothing to ease her knees and sharp pain lanced through her. Her breathing was rough in her ears as her fear turned in on itself and drove every other thought from her mind. In the space of seconds, the patter of the hail softened, and the roaring stopped, leaving a heavy silence behind.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Brenda Murphy (she/her) writes erotic romance. Her most recent novel, Double Six, is the 2020 Golden Crown Literary Society winner for Erotic Novels, and Knotted Legacy, the third book in the Rowan House series, made the 2018 The Lesbian Review’s Top 100 Vacation Reads list. You can catch her musings on writing, books, and living with wicked ADHD on her blog Writing While Distracted. She loves sideshows and tattoos and yes, those are her monkeys. When she is not loitering at her local library, she wrangles twins, one dog, and an unrepentant parrot 

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Website | Facebook | Instagram

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Bi-Furious by Chelsi Robichaud

 Author Chelsi Robichaud and IndiGo Marketing share new LGBTQIA+ contemporary romance, Bi-Furious! Read more and enter in the NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Bi-Furious

Author: Chelsi Robichaud

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/08/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 76200

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Contemporary, romance, bisexual, coming out, illustrator, office romance, comic convention, stalking, cyber-bullying, biphobia, forced outing

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Description

Jess, a young artist, has spent her entire life thinking she was straight. That is, until her long-term boyfriend leaves her for someone else. Single for the first time in years, Jess has time to think about what it is she really wants. And to express that, she paints a portrait of two women embracing. The painting goes viral overnight, and she gets approached by her favorite lesbian illustrator, Lily. The two become fast friends, but there’s one problem: Lily doesn’t know that Jess is straight. The more they talk, the more Jess starts to question her sexuality.

Once she realizes she is bisexual, Jess has to decide what she values more: the safety that heterosexual relationships afford her, or a real connection with someone she truly likes. As her infatuation for Lily grows, Jess has to make the difficult choice between keeping things as they are or accepting the risks that come with being openly bisexual.

Some of those risks involve being the target of cyber-bullying. Although Jess’ friends are happy for her, the Internet is not. One particularly spiteful fan does her best to ruin their relationship. It is up to Jess to find it within herself to reject the online harassment and inner doubts and embrace her new-found identity.

Excerpt

Bi-Furious
Chelsi Robichaud © 2022
All Rights Reserved

It’s over between us, he wrote. I’ve fallen in love with her.

And that was it. It was all over. Well, not everything was over. I still had my job, after all. Not all was lost, but the relationship was clearly and irrevocably damaged beyond repair. I didn’t even bother to try to fight his choice to end it or beg him to reconsider or debase myself in any way really.

I had found out about Mélodie, the other woman, a few days ago. We had been talking it out. I had been willing to let it slide, if he was willing to let her go. It seemed he had decided she was worth it more than me.

Okay, I wrote back, as if I were whispering it. I felt weak. Part of me had known the breakup was coming. But at the same time, I was furious. How could he have dared to do this? And while I was at work, for god’s sake? I had thought maybe we could work through our issues. I clutched at my chest. I was having difficulty breathing. The sensation was like having the wind knocked out of me. A panic attack?

I tried not to cry. I wasn’t even certain why I felt like crying, anyway. It was pretty clear he didn’t care about me. He had met someone else. Why bother being sad? Why waste my time? But despite my best efforts, the emotions broke the surface. I pressed my nails into my palm to distract myself. I thought maybe I was distressed because I was worried about getting my things back. Or because of the nasty things he’d said to me, or because I’d lost a best friend.

I decided to quietly wipe a few tears from my face and cry more later, in the privacy of my own home, when I had ice cream. Oh, yes. There would be a lot of ice cream eating.

I closed the chat. Not much left to say. He left no room for discussion.

“How’s the work going?” my co-worker Julia asked, peeking over at my workspace.

Julia was one of those women who had been raised by an affluent family and gone to the best art schools. She had the shiniest blonde hair I had ever seen, and she always wore it up in a tight high pony. She was always dressed to the nines (and when I say always, I mean always, even when she was relaxing at home). I had quickly discovered after meeting her during my first day at work that she spent money like it was nothing. I had seen her shopping online during her break, and the things she bought were not cheap.

But despite her spoiled nature, she was a friend. Well, more of a work-friend, but she still cared about me. And so, despite her flaws, I liked her (but only in tiny doses).

I smiled faintly. “Oh, fine.”

I worked as a background artist for an animation studio in Montreal, Quebec. Painting had always been a passion of mine, and I got to do it as a profession. I thought it would’ve been great to do what I loved for a living, and in a way, it had been great. In another way, though, it kind of spoiled things. It was difficult to find work-life balance with art. I tended to burn out pretty quickly. And after the message I had received from my ex… I cringed. It felt weird to think of him that way. But after his message, I wasn’t certain how much more work I could get done. My work wasn’t very glamorous. My name barely appeared anywhere. I was a nobody, even in geek groups. So, in the moment, I didn’t have much motivation to keep working.

Julia caught my mood.

“What’s going on?” she asked, peering over the top of the cubicle.

I pressed my lips together into a thin line. “It’s Clark. He dumped me.”

Her eyes widened. “What? When? I thought you were just about to move in together!”

“We were,” I said quietly, pressing my hands into my lap. I was wearing my favourite dress: white satin. It was his favourite too. Or at least, it had been.

“Know what you need?” she asked abruptly.

“A drink?”

“No, something better. Smashing.”

“I don’t think I’m quite ready to ‘smash’ yet. I literally got dumped like five minutes ago.” Uh-oh. Here came the tears. Soon I’d be ugly crying and my co-workers would think I was mental.

She rolled her eyes. “Not smashing as in sex. Breaking plates and cups and things. It’s therapeutic.”

“Is it?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve done it myself a few times. Really cathartic.”

“Okay, then after work, let’s break some plates.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile before sitting back down. “Don’t worry about it, hun. Everyone knew there was no future with him.”

But I had thought there was…

Since I had been ceremoniously dumped like all my old art Clark had thrown out to “make space,” I had to tell my parents. They had been eagerly awaiting a marriage proposal, and so I had to give them the bad news that that was never, ever happening now. I didn’t want to do it in person, and besides, I had already agreed to go break things after work with Julia. If I told them in person, they’d give me the face, and I wanted anything but the face right now.

I decided to text them. I pulled out my phone and opened the messaging app, my finger hovering over the chat. Did I really want to do this? Telling them would only cause trouble, after all. What if I just let them believe we were still together?

I put my phone face down on my desk and concentrated on the screen again. I was working on concept art for a new show we were putting on, kind of a fantasy type thing. Lots of forests and sunsets and hills. I did it all through digital painting. I tried to focus on shading, but my mind was whirling.

How could Clark have broken up with me like that? At work of all places? Thank god we didn’t have a place together yet, but I still had the whole trouble of retrieving my things from his place. He had a few of my best brushes over there, so I definitely wanted them back. I didn’t often paint traditionally, but it was soothing to paint watercolours in my free time.

I tried to pull my mind away from Clark. I needed to focus on work. But every little thing reminded me of him. Drawing hills reminded me of our trip to Iceland. Drawing horses reminded me of the time we went riding together (he loved to ride).

By the time I clocked off, I was emotionally exhausted from the torture I had been subjecting myself to throughout the day. I brushed my fingers through my hair and redid my makeup in the lobby, as if that would heal the emotional scars, and took a deep breath.

It was time to drink wine and break shit.

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Meet the Author

Chelsi Robichaud writes and resides in Halifax, Nova Scotia. She publishes sapphic romance and fantasy novels. She has also self-published two comics. Find Chelsi on Twitter.

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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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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Full Speed Ahead (Food Truck Warriors #4) by Beth Bolden

 

Author Beth Bolden and Gay Book Promotions returns to promote new contemporary romance release, Full Speed Ahead (Food Truck Warriors #4)! Find out more about the latest in the popular food truck series and enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:  Full Speed Ahead (Food Truck Warriors #4)

Author: Beth Bolden

Publisher: Beth Bolden Books

Cover Artist: AngstyG Book Cover and Media Design

Release Date: June 3, 2021

Genre: Contemporary gay romance

Trope/s:  Bodyguard, found family

Theme: Hurt/comfort 

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 84 000 words

It is book 4 in the series. 

The author recommends that readers read at least one of the other books first.

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Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

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Lennox’s favorite escape is the Food Truck Warriors . . .until it needs his protection.

Blurb

Ash isn’t running from his past—he’s already left it way behind. He’s built a business from scratch, using all the lessons that his father taught him, and every day at his food truck is a challenge he was born to tackle.

But when a stalker appears, hinting that he knows the secrets Ash has tried so hard to bury, he needs more help than his food truck friends can provide. He needs a professional.

Lennox is a mystery. He’s been coming around the Food Truck Warriors for months now, and nobody knows if that’s even his real name. But Ash knows he’s fascinated by the man, and the feeling seems to be mutual.

When the threat to Ash becomes a little too real, Lennox intervenes, and finally, the electricity between them transforms into something very much like love. But now their safety—and their hearts—are on the line.

Excerpt 

After climbing into the truck, Ash set his coffee on the counter and checked his watch. His delivery should be here any moment, if they were on time, which . . . Ash had learned practically from the cradle what to do with suppliers who wouldn’t keep to their timelines or couldn’t be relied upon.

They really didn’t want to be late today.

Ash wasn’t in the mood for it.

He glanced out the front window, and froze.

There was a piece of paper taped to it—something that had definitely not been there when he’d closed up last night.

Ash stared at the words, printed in damning black and white.

It was an interview that his father had done—likely one of hundreds, if not thousands, he’d done over the course of his illustrious career. But in this one, he had mentioned his son, Oliver. Who Stephan Atkinson had said with some humor, liked to be called Ash.

A silly affectation, his father told the interviewer, that he would grow out of.

Ash had been . . . maybe thirteen or fourteen if he remembered correctly, when this article had come out, and he’d been furious. It had been one of the many things he’d been pissed at his father for.

Now someone had found it, dredged it out of the bowels of magazine hell, had photocopied it, and taped it to his window. Not facing outwards, so anyone could see it, but inwards, so only Ash could.

Fury flashed with a frightening power through him. He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his keys, and with shaking fingers, locked up behind him. Walked around to the front of his truck, tore the paper off, leaving the edges trapped by the neatly placed tape fluttering in the early morning breeze, and forgoing his bicycle, took off for the one place that he’d told himself he would not go.

Who else could have done this? Ash thought angrily as he stormed towards his destination. It was still so early the streets were essentially empty. He’s the only one who knows.

The building that Tony had described was only a few blocks away.

It had been remodeled, with a glass-front office on the lower level, and a living space on the top. There were a separate set of stairs leading to a discreet door on a wrought iron landing.

A discreet black-lettered sign, matching the wrought iron of the stairs and contrasting with the freshly painted taupe stucco of the building itself, indicated that this was the offices of Protectorate.

It might be early, but Ash could see a figure already in the office below.

Tony had mentioned offhandedly that Lennox was a workaholic, always in the office, so it was not a huge stretch to imagine that it was him, up early, and already working.

Ash walked over to the door, and pulled it, fully expecting it to be locked, but to his surprise it opened easily.

Even though he must have been the one to unlock it, Lennox looked up with shock as he walked in.

Ash imagined they probably didn’t get much foot traffic.

He stomped over to where Lennox sat at a desk, and slapped the paper down in front of him.

“What the fuck is this?” he demanded to know.

Lennox stared at the writing. He took his time answering, clearly reading through the words on the page once, and maybe even twice. Finally he looked up. “It looks like an interview that your father did, talking about his restaurants, and also his son.” He hesitated. “You.”

“Yes, thank you, I can read just as well as you can,” Ash bit off. “What I mean is why was it taped to my truck’s front window this morning?”

“Taped to your . . .”

“And not facing out, but facing in,” Ash interrupted. “So I would see it, but nobody else. Someone wants me to know they’ve figured out who my father is.”

“And you think that’s me.”

Ash gestured wildly, pacing between Lennox’s desk, and the other, currently unoccupied. “Who else could it be?”

“Do you really think I needed to do this to get your attention?” Lennox asked, his tone dry.

About the Author 

A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.

Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas.

Author Links

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a $25 Amazon gift card

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Stolen Heart by Kristian Daniels

Author Kristian Daniels and Gay Book Promotions visit on the Stolen Heart blog tour! Check out more about the friends to lovers romance and enter in the Stolen Heart paperback giveaway!

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Stolen Heart

Author: Kristian Daniels

Publisher: FriesenPress

Cover Artist: FriesenPress

Genre/s:  M/M Romance

Trope/s: Friends to lovers

Themes: Coming out, Forgiveness, Love, Hate crime

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 60 000 words/284 pages

It is a standalone book.

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Buy Links 

Amazon US  |   Amazon CA  |  Amazon UK 

Kobo  |  Friesen Press

Will Elliott’s past dampen his new life?

Blurb 

Life is better with you.

As a teen, Elliott Denison grapples with life, love and sexuality. His heart had been shattered every time his parents pushed him away. Life had forced him to be strong enough to endure Stanstead’s biggest bully and strong enough to come into his own as an openly gay man.

Now he was 26 years old, and a wave of emotion invaded him as though a switch had been sparked in his mind when Chase Harrison unexpectedly crossed his path. Everything Elliott ever wanted growing up was there in front of him. It doesn’t take long for Elliott to enter into Chase’s life.

Then the ugly past rears its head. Only this time, the face is a shadowy online stalker and an anonymous hater.

Book Trailer

Excerpt 

I got back home a few hours later. “Hi, I’m back,” I said. As I headed towards my room, my father asked me to join him in the living room. I did.

“What?”

My father was sitting in his chair with my mother by his side. Something didn’t look right.

“Are you a homosexual?” my father asked calmly but sternly as he turned my laptop around. I hadn’t even noticed it there.

My worst nightmare was staring at me. Ah, shit. “How come my laptop is down here?” I asked.

“I asked you a question,” my father said.

My eyes started darting around as if looking for a place to hide, but I finally looked at my father and answered, “I don’t know.”

“This is a sin!” my father yelled, slamming the laptop shut. He approached me, pointing his finger at me. “This behaviour stops now, you hear? I will not have a sinner in my house! We didn’t bring you up like this, and no son of mine will partake in such disgusting, perverted activities! If you don’t change, I will send you to conversion therapy.”

I looked at my mother for some support or compassion, but she stood there and did nothing. My father stormed outside and slammed the door behind him.

“Mom,” I said, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“You are a sinner,” she said, slapping me across the face. “You are a disgrace to this family. I would rather have a criminal for a son than a pervert. If you want to remain part of this family, you will cease this deviant behaviour immediately; otherwise, I want you out of this house.”

“Mom, please… Don’t say that. It’s not my fault. I tried to resist these feelings. Believe me, I tried.” My eyes were starting to tear up.

“You didn’t try hard enough,” she said.

“This is how God made me, Mom. I can’t change that.”

Her eyes became dark, and her pupils dilated, “Don’t you take the lord’s name in vain! Why do you insist on hurting us like this?”

“I don’t want to hurt you! Do you think this is to hurt you?”

“Liar!” Her face was so close to mine that I could smell her breath. Then she walked out.

I ran outside, slammed the door behind me, and sat on the front steps, trembling. I couldn’t stop sobbing. I called Chad and asked him if I could crash at his place.

“What happened?” Chad asked.

“My parents found out I was gay! They saw the video on my laptop. The things they said to me were so hurtful. I can’t live here anymore! All that matters to them is what the bible says! They’re ready to throw me out! I don’t mean anything to them!”

“Calm down,” Chad said. “I’ll come to pick you up. Pack your things.”

I went inside, grabbed all that would fit in my duffle bag, and stormed back outside to wait for Chad. I didn’t bother telling my parents where I was going; they wouldn’t care anyway. Chad drove up the driveway, I got in, and we left.

“What did you tell your parents?”

“I told them what you told me,” Chad said.

“Are they cool with me coming over?”

“Yes, they’re fine with it. How are you holding up?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know what to think. I feel so ashamed.”

“Don’t. It’s not your fault.” As we pulled up the driveway to his house, Chad suggested that I see a school counsellor next week. “Maybe they can help.”

“Yeah, maybe. Thanks for everything,” I said.

As we walked in, Chad’s parents met us at the door. His mom said, “Hi, Elliott, welcome. I want you to feel comfortable here. Consider this your home now. Chad told us a bit of what happened, and we’re so sorry you had to live that.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hardwicke.

“Come, I’ll show you your room,” Chad said as we walked up the stairs. “Rest up. If you need anything, I’m just across the hall. It will be alright, I promise.” Chad hugged me and went back downstairs.

I sat on the bed, hunched over with my head in my hands, rocking. “What am I suppose to do now? Am I such a bad person?”

About the Author  

Kristian Daniels writes coming of age, gay romance and gay love stories. His stories are about the life and tribulations of the LGBTQs community, their fight to be accepted and loved. It’s also about their struggles, rejection and their suffering. Writing a novel was always a thirst for him, and with Stolen Heart, it became a reality. 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook   |  Twitter  

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

one of two paperback copies of “Stolen Heart” (each dedicated to the winner)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Edging Closer (Tales from the Edge #9) by L.M. Somerton

Author L.M. Somerton and Pride Publishing promote new release, Edging Closer (Tales from the Edge #9)! Find out the latest from the popular series and enter in the giveaway to win a FABULOUS GOODY BAG AND GRAB YOUR FREE L.M. SOMERTON ROMANCE BOOK!

 

Edging Closer by L.M. Somerton

Book 9 in the Tales from The Edge series

General Release Date: 19th January 2021

Word Count: 45,233
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 183
Genres:  BONDAGE AND BDSM, CONTEMPORARY, EROTIC ROMANCE, GAY, GLBTQI

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Book Description

Apparently, the path of true love meanders through a minefield.

After several years of adventures, submissive Olly Glenn and his Dom, Joe Dexter, are about to tie the knot. Needless to say, all does not run smoothly on the path to matrimony. Only Olly can turn a visit to a cupcake shop into a police incident.

While Joe and Olly’s friends join forces to make their wedding the most memorable ever, others are not so keen on them getting their happy ever after—or living to experience their honeymoon. So, when Joe walks into a carefully laid trap, it’s hard to see a way out.

Olly is determined that nobody, not even a sociopathic killer with connections to his past, will ruin the big day. He wants Joe standing next to him, in one piece, and he’ll risk anything to make sure that happens, even if they have to be handcuffed together. In fact, that idea has possibilities…

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, stalking, abduction, and attempted murder.

Excerpt

“Olly, that dog is a menace. He needs more training, a bit like you.” Aiden’s tone betrayed his exasperation.

“Parker is just exuberant.” Olly gave his best friend in the world an aggravated glance. “He’s high on life. And I am very well trained, thank you very much. Ask Joe.”

Aiden snorted. “I’d sooner ask Heath to give me a foot rub and feed me grapes.”

“I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.” Olly laughed, simultaneously scanning the edge of the trees for his dog. “Where has he got to?”

“He’s not living up to his namesake, is he?” Aiden muttered. Parker was named after Lady Penelope’s chauffeur in Thunderbirds.

“He’s loyal and brave and…cleverer than he looks. Parker is the perfect name for him. What do you think I should have called him? Fang or Brutus, I suppose.”

“Fluff Butt, Hairball, Drool Monster… Want me to go on?”

“He does not… Okay, well he does drool a bit, but only when he gets excited.”

“The only time that animal is not excited is when he’s asleep.”

“He can’t help it, it’s in his genes.” To the best of Olly’s knowledge, and the educated guess of his friend Drew at the local animal rescue centre, Parker’s genes were from a spaniel retriever mash-up with a bit of old English sheepdog thrown in. He was pale yellow, long-haired, and had huge floppy ears and enormous paws.

“I think we had better get off the beach and follow him into the woods, don’t you?” Aiden turned away from the shoreline, extending his strides. “I have to get back to work soon. I can’t believe I let you drag me out here.”

“You spend too long in that dungeon you call an office,” Olly said. “You’re turning into a vampire. I know you like to look all pale and emo, but you need your vitamin D.”

“Trust me, I get plenty of D. And you’re a fine one to talk. My diet is far better than yours. You’d exist on sugar and caffeine if Joe let you.”

“Sugar comes from beets. Beets are a type of vegetable. Chocolate comes from cocoa beans. Beans are also vegetables. Coffee comes from…”

“Enough already.” Aiden shook his head. “You’re never going to convince Joe that any of that stuff is good for you, so I don’t know why you bother. Now, stop thinking about sugar and concentrate on finding your daft dog.”

“Nag, nag, nag. You’re worse than Joe.” Olly crossed the treeline into the semi-darkness of the forest, which covered one side of the island housing The Edge, the training centre where he and Aiden both lived and worked. He and Aiden had explored every inch of it, but preferred to walk along the shore. Parker, however, had other ideas. The woods meant rabbits and other small mammals that he could chase. It was easier to dig in the soft leaf mould than it was on the pebble beach, and he loved to shove his nose into burrows, nests and boggy patches. A frantic beating of wings and general disturbance in the trees gave Olly a clue as to where Parker was. He exchanged a glance with Aiden and they set off in the direction of the kerfuffle. There weren’t any proper marked paths through the trees, just animal tracks, and it took some effort to move through the undergrowth.

“We’re heading towards that hollow where the badger sett is, aren’t we?” Olly asked.

“He’s too big to get down those holes.” Aiden growled under his breath.

“It won’t stop him trying.” Olly sped up as best he could, scrambling up the incline that led to the lip of the hollow. “Whoa!” Momentum carried him forwards and he tumbled down the steep slope, finally rolling to a stop in a patch of damp grass and moss. Something wet swiped across his face and he opened his eyes to find Parker giving him an enthusiastic tongue bath. He burst out laughing, batting the dog away as he rolled to his knees. “Where did you get to, Parker? You had me worried there for a minute.”

Parker gave a gruff bark then nosed at Olly’s pocket for treats. “You don’t deserve treats.” Olly slipped him a biscuit bone anyway.

“Are you okay?” Aiden skidded to a halt at his side. “That was a spectacular tumble.”

Olly gave himself a pat down. “I had a soft landing. I’m fine and I found Parker.”

“So I see.” Parker gambolled around Aiden’s legs, almost knocking him over. “What were you doing, you daft mutt?”

“From the amount of dirt around his snout, I think he’s been trying to find badgers to make friends with,” Olly said as he staggered to his feet. He brushed at his clothes in a vain attempt to remove some of the muck. “I’m filthy.”

“No kidding.” Aiden picked a piece of twig out of Olly’s curls. “Are you sure you haven’t damaged anything other than your dignity?”

“My dignity is fully intact, thank you very much.” Olly attached Parker’s lead to his pale blue collar. “But we had better be getting back. I’ve got loads to do.”

“Wedding plans?” Aiden asked.

Olly nibbled his lower lip. “There’s so much organising involved.” He sighed.

“What’s wrong? You have been a bit quiet lately, come to think of it, and I am your best man, so if there’s anything I can do to help, you know you just have to ask.”

“It’s nothing—well, it is but it isn’t. I mean, I really, really want to get married, but…”

“But what? Spill it, Olly.”

“I’m not sure I want such a big event.” There, it was out in the open. Olly couldn’t meet Aiden’s eyes.

“And have you talked to Joe about this?”

“I… Haven’t found the right moment.”

“He so going to spank your behind if you don’t tell him.”

“But he’s been so good about researching all the arrangements. What if a huge wedding is what he wants more than anything in the world?”

“Joe may be all stern and Dommy, but when it comes to you he’s as sappy as they come. Whatever makes you happy is what he’ll want.”

“But I want him to be happy too. This wedding isn’t all about me, it’s about us.”

Parker led the way out of the woods to the path that headed back to The Edge, sniffing at every interesting smell they passed. Olly let him have his way, concentrating on not falling over again.

“And that’s why you should be talking about it, not keeping things to yourself. Joe would be devastated if he thought you were doing something just because you assumed he wanted it and not because it made you happy.”

“Maybe.”

“There’s no maybe about it. Talk to him.”

They circled the main building to a back door where Olly could wash the worst of the mud from Parker’s paws with a hose. “You get on—I know you have to get to work. I’ll see you later, ’kay?”

“Sure. Talk to him today, Olly. I mean it. You won’t be happy or settled until you do.”

Aiden disappeared into the building, leaving Olly alone with Parker. “Well, boy, let’s get you clean. Can’t take you inside in that state, can we?”

Once Parker was as clean as he could get without a full bath, Olly took him inside to the boot room, where he kept a stack of old towels. He gave him a quick rub down, and when he was satisfied that the dog wasn’t going to track dirt through the building, he took a shortcut to the courtyard that granted access to the stable mews cottage he shared with Joe. He fed Parker, who scoffed his food in ten seconds flat before curling up in his bed next to the fireplace and dropping off to sleep.

“So much for having a confidant,” Olly grumbled. “You’re asleep, Aiden’s at work with his secret squirrel stuff, Reuben’s out of bounds in the kitchen. I suppose I could call Kai or Christian, but it’s a bit early. Bite the bullet, Olly. Much as I hate to admit it, Aiden’s right. I should talk to Joe.”

Without bothering to change out of his mucky clothes, Olly wandered through the main building, taking a circuitous route to Joe’s office, which was situated off the main entrance hall. There were a few people around, and he waved to those he knew and greeted those he didn’t, but didn’t stop to chat. If he got distracted, he’d never talk to Joe, and that was what he needed to do.

Despite it being late summer and still warm, there was an open fire burning in the grate of the massive fireplace in the entrance hall, which always seemed to be a bit draughty. The flagstone floors were covered by bright rugs and the furnishings made the space cosy, but the number of people coming in and out of the front door meant that it was difficult to keep it warm. For that reason, Joe often kept his office door closed, but Olly could see that it was open a crack. He didn’t need to knock, but he gave the mellow oak a soft tap anyway before pushing his way inside. It had been less than two hours since he’d been snuggled in bed with Joe, but his breath still hitched when he met his lover’s icy blue eyes as Joe looked up from whatever paperwork he was dealing with.

“What on earth have you been doing?” Joe asked, his tone mild. Olly wasn’t deceived by the gentle enquiry. He nibbled on his lower lip. “No, you don’t have to tell me. You’ve been out walking Parker, haven’t you? I suppose he got into some kind of trouble and took you along with him. Or perhaps it was the other way around.”

“Sir,” Olly whined. “We don’t get into trouble, we have adventures.”

“Adventures that end with you covered in mud and with a grazed elbow.”

Olly inspected the offending arm. He hadn’t noticed the small graze that was oozing a couple of spots of blood. “Oh, I didn’t realise… I wonder how I did that. Probably when I fell down that hill.”

That statement got Joe to his feet and stalking around his desk. “You took a fall?” He pushed his office door closed and turned the key. “Take your clothes off, Oliver. I want to look you over.”

Olly sighed. He should have known that Joe wouldn’t be satisfied with him saying he wasn’t hurt—he had to have the proof of his own eyes.

“But I want to…”

“Oliver.”

“Yes, Sir.” Olly stripped to his underwear then stood, placid, while Joe inspected him.

“Hmm. A couple of bruises, some scratches and that graze. You’ll live.”

Olly fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Being in such close proximity to Joe when Joe was fully dressed and he was clad in skimpy underwear had an inevitable effect. He crossed his hands in front of his groin and attempted to look demure.

“You really think you can hide anything from me, Oliver?”

“No, Sir,” Olly mumbled.

“I think some quiet time is called for.” Joe gestured to the armchair in the corner of his office. “You may sit there while I carry on working. Think about why it’s important not to worry your Dom by throwing yourself around in the woods.”

Olly knew it was useless to protest, and besides, he liked being in the study while Joe worked. He curled into the chair, plumping the cushions to make a nest.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Toasty, thanks.”

Joe returned to his seat and bent over his papers, grumbling about some kind of error on an invoice. Olly let his eyes drift closed. He ignored his aching cock and allowed himself to daydream about Joe bending him over the desk for a spanking. He smiled. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store First For Romance

About the Author

L.M. Somerton

Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted. She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM. You can follow Lucinda on Twitter, Twitter and her Website.

Giveaway

Enter to win a fabulous Goody Bag and a FREE L.M. Somerton romance book!

L.M. Somerton's Edging Closer

L.M. SOMERTON IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN THIS FABULOUS GOODY BAG AND GRAB YOUR FREE L.M. SOMERTON ROMANCE BOOK! Notice: This competition ends on 26th January 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

Guest Review: Handsome Death by Sara Dobie Bauer

I'm not hunting him; I'm protecting him.
At least, that's what I tell myself.
In New York City, a beautiful creature like Tristan Clement should not be walking the streets alone, and I'm the perfect vampire to watch his back.
But what if keeping him safe isn't enough anymore? What if I want to touch? And taste?
I need him. But I've never needed anyone.

---------------

In a world where paranormal creatures live amongst us and must follow certain laws, living life as a dangerous loner works for vampire Ethan. Inhabiting his gleaming apartment, wearing his designer suits, jetting around the world as a fanged killer-for-hire, Ethan does it all alone.

That is, until he literally runs into Tristan. Tristan, who is clearly trouble wrapped in skinny jeans and an oversized sweater. Tristan, with his shock of angelic blond curls. Tristan, who plays piano more beautifully than the old masters-- and Ethan would know; he saw Beethoven.

Tristan is gorgeous, a little sassy, and irresistible. Also, Ethan is horrified to note, Tristan has no idea how incredibly tempting he is to things that go bump in the night.

Overcome by the urge to keep Tristan safe, Ethan begins to... well, stalk is such a strong word. What starts as an obsession quickly becomes something more, something that Ethan needs. And to his surprise, Tristan seems to need him, too...

This darkly romantic tale delivers steamy passion and a happily ever after. Be advised that Handsome Death includes explicit m/m content, stalking, mentions of past abuse, and graphic violence.

Reviewer: Annery

What a difference a day makes. If I’d read this earlier this month I would’ve ended up between a meh and sort of disappointed.* This month? It was a sweet and innocuous distraction that filled up a couple of hours. No small feat.

Sara Dobie Bauer sets us in a present day alternate world, specifically NYC, where vampires and other paranormal creatures are acknowledged and live openly in society with rules governing their kind. Very little of the vampire trappings, mythology, back story etc. is developed, rather the story counts on the reader knowing vampire canon and the author tweaks a few, convenient, bits. It doesn’t really matter and I’m not sure that the vampire aspect contributed anything to the story but the romantic idea of truly eternal love.

Ethan a.k.a. Etienne a.k.a. the Marquis de Marteau a.k.a. The Butcher has been among the undead for over two hundred years and has yet to quench his lust for death, which he currently slakes by being a mercenary. Just for fun and giggles. During that time he’s also been dead to any kind of kinship or affection but all of that changes one October day when he wanders into a coffee shop and meets his destiny, Tristan “Tris” Clement. Tris is the wet dream du jour: a tall, all limbs, blonde, musical prodigy (aren’t they all?) who’s the doe-eyed proverbial babe in the woods, good to the last fibre of his being, and in need of protection. Ethan will be that for him and so much more.

You could get stumped by some things like how Ethan, despite being an 18th Century Parisian speaks like your average Twitter bro, but I digress. I chose to squint through most of the niggles, ignore the vampire angle, and enjoy the tale of a man who was emotionally numb, a young man who’s been knocked down a bit, and how they fill each other’s empty corners. Sexually, they’re like a match and strike, they scorch the sheets, and dabble in some kink. Tris loves Ethan’s domineering brand of love, Ethan can’t get enough of how Tris clings to him like a barnacle, and wants to swaddle him in gauze. They’re both deliriously happy. And if you want an uncomplicated and angst free read to escape the doldrums this will do nicely.

*My whole disappointed thing has to do with my previous SDB read “We Still Live”. It was such a vital read for me, and the tone from that one to this one was so different that I guess it just jarred me. But I appreciate that not everything has to be heavy and I like a writer who has range.

Don't miss today's release blitz for Handsome Death HERE