Release Blitz + Giveaway: His Dark Reflection (Heart and Haven #3) by Heloise West

Author Heloise West and IndiGo Marketing returns with the latest from the mystery series, His Dark Reflection (Heart and Haven #3)! Read more about the contemporary romance and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 

Title: His Dark Reflection

Series: Heart and Haven, Book Three

Author: Heloise West

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 2, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 66100

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, action, blue-collar, law enforcement, mystery, crime

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Disgraced FBI agent Nick Truman failed to save his sister, who was held hostage by a drug cartel until he could give them Alex Crow, who eluded him. His epic downfall lands him in witness protection, where he plays by the rules and keeps to himself. But the murder of his neighbor brings danger to his door. He unexpectedly finds himself the champion of innocents and helplessly attracted to the homicide detective in charge of the case. Nick knows it won’t end well.

Homicide Detective Hank Axelrod is good at digging out secrets, maybe because he hides a big one of his own. He also suspects his husband has one foot out of the door of their marriage and the specter of single life looms unpleasantly on the horizon.

A murder resembling a previous one brings Nick into his world, a man who claims to be a mystery writer looking for a real-life resource. Hank’s instincts say he’s more than that, and he’s rarely wrong.

Torn between the errant soon-to-be-ex husband and the distracting, sexy stranger, Hank needs to focus all his attention on his murder case before he becomes the next victim.

Excerpt

Excerpt
His Dark reflection
Heloise West © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Hank rattled the keys in a one-handed grip to shake loose the house key from the rest. No lights on in the house and beyond late for dinner—starving and sleep deprived too. In his other hand, he held a thick file of case notes because the night wasn’t over for him yet. At least Len had left the porch light on.

After letting himself into the house, he placed the file on the end table, keys on top, and toed off his shoes. The windbreaker he shrugged out of hadn’t done much to keep the spring cold off.

The rocking chair in the living room creaked. Hank spun around, hand going to his holster.

“Easy, cowboy.” Len yawned. He snapped on the table lamp beside him. “I fell asleep. What time is it?”

“Jesus, Len. It’s two in the damn morning. Let me put this away.” At the bottom of the closet, the gun safe sat on a shelf. He knelt, spun the dial, and tucked the gun away. When he turned, Len stood, arms across his chest, brown hair tousled. Another yawn stretched his mouth wide. Hank, tired to the marrow, pulled Len into a bone-crunching hug, and Len laughed against his shoulder.

Relief tickled through him. On the drive home from the station, he’d feared the house would be empty. He inhaled the scent of Len’s pricey shampoo—vanilla and sweet tobacco with a hint of whiskey. His heart twisted with anxiety.

“I’m sorry. I—”

“You got caught up, I know. ’Sokay.” Len yawned again. “But I’m beat. She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed wants me in bright and early tomorrow, so…” He stepped away from Hank’s embrace. Hank let him go with reluctance. “There’s lasagna and meatballs in the fridge. Or maybe you’re ready for bacon and eggs?”

“Neither. Both. I’ll figure dinner out while I read the case notes again. I need to make sure this guy doesn’t walk.”

Len turned around. “Hon? I know. You’ll be great. You always are. Night.”

“Night,” Hank responded as he picked up the paperwork. He sat in the rocker Len had vacated with the file in his lap and fell asleep with the first page between his fingers.

He awoke with a snort, thinking he’d heard Len’s muffled laughter and smiled. When he glanced at his watch, twenty minutes had passed since he’d first sat down. He’d sleep in tomorrow, but he still wouldn’t have caught up on all the sleep he’d lost over this one. Hank stood and stretched his aching muscles, contemplating a shower, but his deepening desire for bed and maybe sex to relax him led him into the bedroom and not the kitchen. Len’s nightstand lamp glowed, and his side of the bed rumpled but empty. Len’s soft giggle came from the other side of the bathroom door.

Hank rapped his knuckles against the oak. “Hey, babe?”

The toilet flushed. “I’m washing up! Be right there.”

A cold weight settled into Hank’s belly at his husband’s rushed, edge of guilty tone, slithery and with pointed scales brushing against his tender insides—a too-familiar feeling tilting the world on its axis. The bathroom door opened, and Len came out wreathed in the scent of mouthwash and minty toothpaste. “All yours.” He smiled but wouldn’t meet Hank’s eyes, making it all the harder for Hank to dislodge the sick feeling in his stomach.

“Who were you talking to?”

Len turned away from Hank. “One of the new interns drunk-dialed me. She’s a hoot, so we talked. Come to bed, Hank. You must be wiped out.” He slid between the sheets and pulled on the covers on Hank’s side.

Liar, the serpent in his belly whispered.

“I fell asleep in the rocker, so yeah, I guess I am.” Too tired to fight, he gathered up pajama bottoms and a T-shirt and headed into the bathroom. When he came out, Len lay facing away from Hank, his breathing even. Maybe asleep. Hank doubted it as he climbed into bed turned away from Len, his eyes wide in the darkness.

*

Hank slept later than usual, exhaustion stealing any memory of dreams he might have had. When he awoke, Len had already gone to work. What had Hank been so afraid of last night?

He went into the kitchen and started up the coffee. Not the first time one of Len’s friends had called drunk or upset. Len had a lot of friends. They helped him through Hank’s late nights. Although their marriage went to hell last spring, in the end, love forced them to work things out. Hank believed in Len, still believed the tearful, heartfelt promises of renewed fidelity.

He shoved a bagel into the toaster oven. But—he plopped down on a kitchen chair as if his bones had untied themselves—why did he have such a weird feeling last night? A couple of weird feelings, actually.

He’d believed Len when he returned to him and promised fidelity. Yet, he spent too much time with liars, thieves, cheats, and murderers, so maybe the distrust had rubbed off on him?

Or should he stick with his gut feeling Len had more to hide? It wouldn’t be the first time…but he’d hoped they’d done with the past. Ugh, second-guessing himself again. He couldn’t afford the drain on his confidence today.

The toaster oven tinged. With a fork, he dragged out the bagel. He loaded it with butter and the homemade strawberry jam his mother had made.

He didn’t trust much of humanity, long before he’d become a cop. Hank didn’t want the scum bleeding into their relationship. Distrust bred more distrust. He often found it tough to leave the hard-guy persona behind at the office, to let his softer side out around Len. It’d been difficult when they first met, but Len had been patient. Well, Hank would be patient too. What if a family issue had set off Hank’s alarms, a secret Len didn’t want to share yet?

He’d demolished the bagel as the wheels turned in his head. Sucking on his sticky-sweet fingers of one hand, he opened the fridge with the other for a second bagel. Last night’s dinner sat wrapped in cellophane on the shelf.

He had to talk to Len. But first, where did he leave the damn file?

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

Heloise West, when not hunched over the keyboard plotting love and mayhem, dreams about moving to a villa in Tuscany. She loves history, mysteries, and romance. She travels and gardens with her partner of fifteen years, and their home overflows with books, cats, art, and red wine.

Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Restricted (The Verge #1) by A.C. Thomas

Author A.C. Thomas and IndiGo Marketing celebrate the release of Restricted (The Verge #1)! Read more about the first in the science fiction series and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

 

Title: Restricted

Series: The Verge, Book One

Author: A.C. Thomas

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 2, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 63900

Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, sci-fi, pansexual, gay, nerd/scientist, pilot/space cowboy, space travel/road trip, space pirates, missing person, size difference, twins, virginity/loss of virginity, class difference

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Dr. Aristotle Campbell is a desperate man. His twin brother has been abducted, and Ari will do anything to find him. Forced out of the comfortable solitude of his laboratory, Ari must leave their home world of Britannia and search the farthest reaches of space for his other half. He hastily equips himself with a flawlessly tied cravat, a handful of clues, and his small science vessel. Now, all he needs is a pilot to get him across the Verge, a barrier separating the civilized world from ungoverned space.

Pilot Orin Stone is a desperate man. No ship, no pay, no prospects. He spends his days barely scraping by in the rough colonies lining the Verge interior. When he gets an offer from a frantic, upper-crust professor in need of a pilot, he has no choice but to take the job. He just can’t believe it when the professor turns out to be the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen and that his offer includes a ship of Orin’s own. If Orin can keep his heart (and other portions of his anatomy) from leaping every time sweet, innocent Dr. Campbell looks at him, this should be his easiest job yet.

Rugged Orin and aristocratic Ari work together to navigate the lawless areas of space beyond the Verge, soon discovering that they work well together in all areas. Their immediate and intense attraction to one another is an obstacle to their plans that neither saw coming. More than sparks will fly when they break through the force field and enter restricted space, all alone together for the perilous journey, leaving barriers to their growing attachment far behind.

In their search across the stars, can two desperate men find their home in one another?

Excerpt

Restricted
A.C. Thomas © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
“You want me to do what?”

Ari straightened his shoulders, hands folded together on the table between them, suppressing a wince as his skin stuck unpleasantly to a thick smear of residue best left uninvestigated.

Somewhere behind him the sound of glass breaking was followed by a bowel-shaking roar, a meaty impact, scuffling sounds, and hearty guffaws.

Definitively best left uninvestigated.

He sniffed quietly, regretting the action as the odor of stale beer and unwashed bodies assaulted his senses. Forcing himself to meet his companion’s bored regard, he cleared his throat before speaking in as firm a tone as he could manage.

“In the interest of saving both of our time, I’ll cut to the chase. I require a pilot capable of navigating uncharted areas with immediate availability and a willingness to negotiate a flexible pay schedule.”

Mr. “Call me Orin, honey” Stone slumped back in his seat with careless, sprawling grace, the edge of one enormous scuffed leather boot sliding across the floor to rest a millimeter away from the polished black toes of Ari’s spats.

“So, just so we’re clear— You’re asking me to find you a pilot ready to jump right across the Verge into the deepest, slimiest dark, for—and this is the bit that really sticks in my throat, pumpkin— You want me to find you some sap willing to do all that for, apparently, no pay.”

Keen bourbon eyes swept Ari from head to toe, that restless boot finally edging just close enough to touch.

“You’re cute, sugar. But you’re off your rocker.”

Ari’s chair scraped against the floor as he jolted forward in his seat, one hand closing around the fraying cuff of Orin’s greatcoat.

“This is a matter of utmost urgency. My brother is—” He paused to clear his throat after an embarrassing crack in his voice. “My brother is missing; he has been abducted by an Outlier fiend, and I am utilizing every resource at my disposal to ensure his safe return. My inquiries led me to you, with the assurance you could facilitate a jump with immediate effect. Now I demand that you either provide said assistance, or you cease wasting my time.”

Orin fixated on the white-knuckled grip holding his sleeve. The coiled strength of his thick forearm underscored Ari’s awareness that he could break free at a moment’s notice with very little energy expended.

“What kind of resources are we talking, here?” Orin’s eyes narrowed under a heavy brow, the sweep of space-black lashes unexpectedly elegant against his brutish visage.

Ari drew a long breath, attempting to steady his resolve.

“I possess a three-year-old Xalanthe Explorer model 953V. It is in exemplary condition, and I am prepared to offer it as payment upon my brother’s safe return to our home on Britannia.”

Before he finished speaking, Orin sat up in his chair, the full extent of his imposing size suddenly evident even while seated. He turned his hand in Ari’s grip, long fingers wrapping easily around his thin wrist.

“You’re trading your ship. A brand-new ship. To any asshole willing to fly it? Just to finish a little game of hide-and-seek with your brother who—no offense, Red—sounds like he ran off with a bit of strange?”

Aristotle bristled, slim shoulders rising to his ears as the heat of an angry flush spread from the unfortunate ginger of his precisely parted hairline down to the white of his starched collar points.

“He did not ‘run off’! He was abducted. I have no more time to waste with your nonsense, sir. Are you able to assist in my endeavor, or shall I continue pursuing a pilot on my own?”

A lopsided grin spread across his companion’s face, revealing a hint of prominent canine and a surprisingly charming set of dimples. Orin gave another insolent sweep of his gaze, ticking to the length of Ari’s throat rising above his cravat. The rumble of his voice dropped low enough that Ari had to strain to hear him above the surrounding chaos.

“Hmm, that depends, Red. That blush go all the way down?”

The clatter of the cheap aluminum chair against the cracking concrete floor was lost in the cacophony of raucous laughter, clinking glasses, and blaring synth music that characterized drinking establishments on the rough ring of colonies lining the Verge. Ari wrenched his arm away as he stood, breaking free.

He turned his back, adjusting his waistcoat with trembling fingers as he wracked his brain for alternative solutions. He had only taken a half step away from the table when a firm grip on his coattails wrenched him backward. He swung around, fists in a pugilist’s stance, raised to the smiling face of Mr. Stone.

“Whoa now, slow up there, professor. If you’re wanting to trade a whole damn ship for the temporary services of some sleazy sack of shit with a pilot’s license, I got just the guy you need.”

Knees weak with relief, Ari nearly attempted to sit before remembering he had overturned his chair, which was now likely glued to the filthy floor of the saloon.

“Excellent. Where can I find this person?”

That lopsided grin opened up into a full-blown smile, revealing rows of white, uneven teeth. “You’re looking at him, sweetheart.”

Ari twitched at the endearment, unaccustomed to the way they seemed to drip from the pilot’s every phrase like butter melting off the plate.

He turned fully to face him, coattails twining around his narrow hips as Orin maintained his grip, tugging once with a waggle of thick brows at Ari’s resulting unintentional pelvic thrust before releasing him with a flourish.

Orin pushed off from the table, broad shoulders rising up and up to just above Ari’s line of sight. Ari swallowed an obvious comment on the pilot’s intimidating height, realizing how much he’d underestimated the man’s size.

Ari stared straight ahead at the hollow of Mr. Stone’s throat, bronze skin left exposed by the open vee of his collarless shirt. A few dark, curling hairs peeked out of the opening, inches from Aristotle’s nose. A strange fluttering sensation swept through his abdomen at the sight.

Recognizing the sensation as inappropriate at best and disastrous at worst, Ari turned on stiff legs and led the way out of the saloon, doing his utmost to avoid brushing up against the rough clientele. Heads swiveled to follow Ari even as they ignored the much larger figure of Mr. Stone following close behind his every step.

Ari ducked his head as they emerged into the daylight, squinting against the intrusive brightness before heading off toward the nearest dry dock, zeroing in on his ship after a few minutes’ walk. Mr. Stone was a silent shadow at his back, footsteps shockingly light for a man of his size.

The small exploratory vessel stood out among the busted-up freighters and speeders cluttering the dock. Clean panels of riveted steel shaped the subtle curves framing the centerpiece—a large frontal view screen. The only unnecessary ornament was that of the exaggerated dorsal fin, the sight of which had caused Aristotle’s brother to laugh out loud when they first purchased the ship.

Ari’s back stiffened at a low whistle, two familiar notes usually directed with prurient interest.

Mr. Orin Stone was circling his ship, one hand, large and square as a shovel head, trailing long fingers over the surface with surprising reverence.

“What’s your name, beautiful?”

He directed his inquiry to the ship but turned to Aristotle as though expecting an answer.

Ari cleared his throat. “As I have previously mentioned, it is a Xalanthe—”

Orin cut him off with a rude sound pushed between full lips. “She.”

Ari opened his mouth to reply, mistaking a brief pause for the conclusion of the pilot’s statements.

“Ship’s a she. And she’s a pretty little thing, deserves a name. If you don’t have one for her yet, I can think of something fancy to call her. Something with a bit of glitter to it. Little lady like this one deserves to shine.”

His eyes in turn glittered at Ari, sparkling with amusement and apparent satisfaction upon viewing the small science vessel.

Without looking away, he spat into one rough palm before holding it out to Aristotle as if to shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Red.”

Ari recoiled from the offered hand, curling his own into protective fists at the notion of sealing a verbal contract with an exchange of bodily fluids.

“That is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen.”

Orin’s throaty laughter rang out against the polished metal panels of the ship exterior, echoing across the shipyard.

“Is it now? Well, stick with me, sugar; I could really expand your horizons.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

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

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

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway 

 

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Stable Hand (The Braided Crop Ranch #1) by AE Lister

Pony play enthusiast? Check out today's release blitz from author AE Lister and IndiGo Marketing for Stable Hand (The Braided Crop Ranch #1)! Read more and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 

Title: Stable Hand

Series: The Braided Crop Ranch, Book One

Author: AE Lister

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 2, 2020

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, BDSM, pony play, cowboys, entertainment, sex toys, menage, polyamory, rewards, punishments

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

The Braided Crop Ranch is looking for stable hands. But this is no ordinary horse ranch. They cater to men with a certain interest. An interest involving harnesses, tails, and trainers.

Managed and expertly run by registered psychologist, Adam Marsland, the Ranch is a safe place for the expression of sex positive and kink positive needs and fantasies.

Jensen Moriarty is desperate for a job. He can handle horses. In fact, he’s a pro at it. Too bad the BCR doesn’t deal with real horses. But they do have “ponies”.

If Jensen can wrap his head around what the BCR actually stands for, he may have the opportunity to expand his resumé and experience something completely unexpected in the process.

Excerpt

Stable Hand
AE Lister © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Horses. They were what I knew. What I’d grown up knowing, riding, grooming, tacking in the small Alberta town where I’d lived.

I missed small-town life. Ottawa wasn’t a huge city, but it was big enough, crowded enough, it made me crave the peace and quiet of a smaller life.

My friend Mitchell hadn’t told me much about the Braided Crop Ranch except to say the place was secluded deep in the heart of the Muskokas in Northern Ontario, which turned out to be an understatement.

From my calculations I was only about twenty minutes away, but the brush had thickened, and the GPS wasn’t making sense. There wasn’t even a proper road. Out of desperation, I pulled my car over to the gravel on the side of the dirt track. I left the car on, air conditioner blasting, while I looked up the name of the man who’d interviewed me over the phone: a Mr. Adam Marsland. I found the number quickly in my contacts and hit call.

“BCR, Connor speaking,” a chipper male voice announced after a few rings.

The voice didn’t belong to Mr. Marsland.

“Uh,” I hesitated. “Hi. I’m trying to reach Adam Marsland?”

“Who’s calling, please?”

I cleared my throat, feeling like an idiot. Nothing like starting a new job and not being able to find the place. “This is Jensen Moriarty. I’m supposed to be there at noon, but I—”

“Oh, hi, Jensen. I’m Mr. Marsland’s personal assistant. Would you like me to get him for you?”

“I just need directions. My GPS isn’t making sense.”

Connor laughed. “He should have told you not to rely on the GPS. You should be using the map from the email.”

Email? “What email?”

There was a pause. “You didn’t get the welcome email? The one outlining our policies and practices? I’m sure I sent the form to you a few days ago…”

I wracked my brain but didn’t remember seeing an email. Unless the message had gone into my spam folder. “No, I didn’t get it. A map would be…helpful.”

“Sure, yeah, let me text the map to you. Hold on a second.”

“You might as well text me the other info as well.”

Connor cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I’ll let Mr. Marsland explain everything when you get here.”

I heard a notification and saw the map had come through. I opened the file quickly and had a look.

“Looks like I’m not too far.”

“Okay, come to the main building when you get here. You’ll see the BCR sign on the wall.”

“BCR?” I asked, wiping a crushed mosquito off the dash.

“The Braided Crop Ranch. That is where you’re trying to get to, right?”

“Yes. I just— Yes, that’s where I’m headed.” God, could I make a worse first impression?

“I’ll make sure Adam is here to greet you.”

“Thanks,” I said.

As I’d suspected, I wasn’t far out. If I followed this dirt road and turned onto another called Rattler’s Revenge in about three miles, I’d be there.

Would they put me to work right away, cleaning stalls and looking after the horses? Mr. Marsland hadn’t described my exact duties during our phone interview, but Mitchell had said they were looking for a stable hand.

Marsland had seemed like a nice guy. He’d appeared more interested in the kind of person I was rather than in any experience I’d had. I’d explained I needed a job that would give me some direction along with a decent salary so I could pay off my student loans.

The business degree had been a waste of money, no matter what my parents said. Turned out I hated accounting. Yeah, I was good with numbers, but working with them all day and night was too much to ask.

I needed to be outside. I needed to be interacting with other beings, human or animal. I needed hard work and adventure.

Now I had no idea what I wanted to do. Except for horses. I wanted to work with horses. Living on a ranch with a bunch of other cowboys wouldn’t be so bad either. Even if they didn’t share my orientation, the eye candy would be heavenly.

I’d been surprised when Adam told me the salary I’d be earning. The level was high for a stable hand. He’d also mentioned something about the special stock at the BCR so maybe they only housed Arabians or something. That would be a treat. I’d never seen a full-blood Arabian horse up close.

After following the serpentine curve of Rattler’s Revenge for about fifteen minutes, the brush thinned, and I emerged into a large clearing with the impressive outline of the ranch spread before me. The path took me to a set of steel black gates with BCR in big iron letters affixed to the bars.

A black intercom box perched on the stone wall to the left of the gates. I pulled in close, lowered my window, and pressed the button.

There was a crackle and then Connor’s voice. “Name please.”

“Jensen Moriarty. We spoke on the phone.”

“Awesome. I’ll buzz you in.”

An electrical humming noise sounded as the gates unlocked and slowly swung open.

“Welcome to the BCR, Jensen,” Connor said.

I drove forward and rolled up the window to keep the heat out.

An array of bright red and brown buildings crowded the far distance. In front of me stood an imposing clapboarded farmhouse with these words, painted in black, spanning the wall:

THE BRAIDED CROP RANCH STABLES

~ Pony shows every month ~

Pony shows every month, huh? Looked like I’d have my work cut out for me.

I parked in the small lot to the left of the front door and turned the car off. I wondered if driving all the way out here had been the right thing to do. At any rate, the job provided a new beginning and somewhere to spend the summer. If I enjoyed the work and found the people to be friendly and helpful, maybe I’d stay for a while.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published many other books, one of which (Beyond the Edge) received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association–International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Blog Tour + Giveaway: Steadfast (Character Bleed #3) by K.L. Noone

Join author K.L. Noone and Other Worlds Ink on today's tour stoop for contemporary romance, Steadfast (Character Bleed #3)! Read more abou tthe latest in the series and enter in the $10 Amazon gift card giveaway! 

K.L. Noone has a new contemporary MM romance out: "Steadfast." And there's a giveaway too!

A love story for the ages! An intimate confession! An epic quest! And happily ever after on the horizon…

Jason Mirelli loves Colby Kent. And Colby loves him. They’ve told the world. And Colby’s recovered from injury, so they’re back at work and back on set. Jason just might have everything he’s ever dreamed of, with a serious leading role, an epic love story, and Colby safe and happy in his arms—but they only have two weeks of filming to go. He’s afraid of the dream falling apart, and he knows Colby has a secret to confess—one that could transform both the ending of their movie and their future together.

Colby never got around to telling Jason his final secret before the accident on set. Now that he’s recovered, he wants to share his writing and his silent script doctor work with the man he loves. Besides, he’s rewritten this script to give their characters a proper happy ending. But he’s nervous about making changes to a classic novel, and he wants the author’s approval.

Colby’s hoping to seek out the famously reclusive author in question, but first he’ll need to trust Jason with this last piece of himself. If he can, he and Jason might finally find their happily-ever-after both on screen and off—for their characters and for themselves.

About the Series:

An epic motion picture! A gay Napoleonic War love story! Ballrooms and battles at sea! Romantic happy endings on the silver screen! And a film that’ll change everything for its stars ...

Jason Mirelli can’t play adrenaline-fueled action heroes forever. He’s getting older, plus the action star parts have grown a little thinner since he came out as bisexual. This role could finally let him be seen as a serious dramatic actor, and he needs it to go well -- for his career, and because he’s fallen in love with the story and the chance to tell it.

The first problem? He’ll be playing a ship’s captain ... and he hasn’t exactly mentioned his fear of water. The second problem? His co-star: award-winning, overly talkative, annoyingly adorable -- and openly gay -- box office idol Colby Kent.

Colby’s always loved the novel this film’s based on, and he leapt at the chance to adapt it, now that he has the money and reputation to make it happen. But scars and secrets from his past make filming a love story difficult ... until Jason takes his hand and wakes up all his buried desires. Jason could be everything Colby’s ever wanted: generous and kind, a fantastic partner on set, not to mention those heroic muscles. But Colby just can’t take that chance ... or can he?

As their characters fall in love and fight a war, Colby and Jason find themselves falling, too ... and facing the return of their own past demons. But together they just might win ... and write their own love story.

Seaworthy (Book 1) Buy Links

Publisher | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Stalwart (Book 2) Buy Links

Publisher | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Steadfast (Book 3) Buy Links

Publisher | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

---

Giveaway

K.L. is giving away a $10 Amazon gift certificate with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47155/?

---

Excerpt

Jason steadied Colby and himself as best he could. His heart hadn’t calmed down yet. Slamming into his ribs—seeing Colby come running through a doorway, eyes wide, breath quick—hearing Colby ask for help—

But Colby’s eyes were bright. And Colby’s hand on his arm was exuberant, not frightened.

“—I’ve saved them, you see,” Colby was saying, voice tripping all over itself in excitement, accent rippling and delighted. “I’ve worked it out, the happy ending, and I’m very sorry you’ll have to lose an arm, but that won’t be too dreadful, and your Stephen can come home to Will after all, but if I’m going to change anything that drastic I do want to explain, so I’ll need your help, but anyway, here, tell me whether you think it’s all right—”

“You’re okay,” Jason said.

“Oh.” Colby blinked at him, then smiled. Will’s dressing gown slid off one shoulder; Jason moved to tug it back up, but Colby already was, unselfconsciously graceful. “Yes. Very much.”

“You…saved Will and Stephen?” He took offered script pages. “You changed the ending?”

“Yes, I had to—I couldn’t let them be tragic—yes, go on, read it—”

Serenity the PA had tactfully wandered down the hallway and was pretending to be texting. Night fell like a slowing carousel around them, through tall curtain-framed windows full of stars.

Jason kept an arm around Colby, who believed in happy endings. Found the beginning of the new scenes.

After a minute he said, “Holy shit yes.”

“Yes, I thought so too, did you like the bit when Stephen—”

“Hang on, I’m not done—” It was good. It was so good. He wanted to leap headlong into Colby’s words, to plunge into this imagined historical future. He could see himself playing it out, knowing exactly the quaking weight in Stephen’s steps toward Will’s townhouse, fearful and hopeful, reunion only a possibility until it became triumphantly real…

He knew how Stephen would gather Will close with his one good arm, and how the tears would burn: Will lived, Will still wanted him, they would face the rebuilding of their lives together.

His chest ached, because Colby had written words that reached in and gripped his heart and shook it apart and then soothed it into a soft safe rhythm again.

He looked up, after. “This is right.”

“Yes,” Colby said. “Yes. It’s a good history—two men getting to be happy together, because they did, they could, we have to tell those stories—”

“But it’s also right for them. What they do with the house, with their lives—”

“I wanted it,” Colby said, “to feel like joy.” He looked like joy too, wrapped up in an embroidered period dressing gown.

“It does,” Jason said. “It does.”

“But to make that change…” Colby hesitated, excitement not dimmed but reshaped. “First we’ll have to tell Jillian. It’ll alter the tone of the film.”

“She’ll love it. I do.”

“I think she will—we’d talked about the ending, and I’d said I wasn’t entirely happy—but it’ll mean a longer shoot. I can put more money into it, that’s not a problem, but we’ll be asking the crew to extend their commitment. I’ll understand if some of them can’t, of course.”

Jason mentally skipped over the financing comment. It was a reminder—Colby had a hell of a lot of money even compared to Jason’s action-hero income, enough to casually fling at a production in need—but he’d already made peace with that. He knew Colby used it to help people.

More importantly, he guessed that most if not all of their crew would stay on. If not for the paycheck, for Colby. “Bet they’ll want to. This is big. This kind of story. Telling it.”

“That’s the other part. I know how much the novel means to the people who love it.” Colby squared shoulders. “I think, in order to do this…we should go and find George Forrest and ask. Not permission, precisely—he gave that when we agreed on the rights, and he said he didn’t want to be involved—not bothered by all that nonsense, was how he put it—but I’d like some sort of…”

“Approval?”

“Perhaps. I want to be respectful. I’ll show him my version, and he can comment, I’d not mind, he knows Will and Stephen the best—I wonder if he’d like raspberry tarts as a sort of gift—”

The next realization hit Jason’s brain like a falling ton of Regency-era bricks. “Colby?”

“That’s the bit I’d like your help with, not the baking but the travel, because—”

“Colby.”

“Possibly not tarts?”

“If you do this…if we do this…” He had both hands on Colby’s shoulders. Bracing. “It’ll mean telling people. About your writing. It’ll have to. We could try to keep your secret, I know you and Jill’ve been good at that, and I’ll help, you know I will. But it won’t work for long. If you’re the one finding the author, if you’re showing him this—if even one person says even one thing—with the press we’ve already got…” He gave up, said it again: “You’ll have to tell people. And I know you don’t want to.”

Colby didn’t flinch. “I know. I’m fine with it.”

“You are?”

“I am. I’d already decided that, last night. I thought…yes, it’ll change things, but I’m proud of what I write. And I love Stephen and Will, and I believe in romance, and if giving them a happy ending means being a bit brave about sharing myself, I can do that.”

You can, Jason thought. His hands gentled, holding those slender shoulders; his heart skipped a beat, caught breath, felt awe like sunrise. He thought that even without being in love with Colby, which he was, he’d love Colby: someone who cared about happiness deeply enough to face the price of it with open eyes. With freshly-made raspberry tarts in hand.

---

Author Bio

K.L. Noone employs her academic research for writing romance, frequently LGBTQIA, often paranormal, fantasy, or historical. Her full-length romance novels include the Character Bleed trilogy (Seaworthy, Stalwart, Steadfast), Cadence and the Pearl, and A Demon for Midwinter, available from JMS Books, and A Prophecy for Two, available from Inkshares, and she’s also the author of multiple romance short stories with JMS Books, and previously with Less Than Three Press, Circlet Press, and Ellora's Cave. Her non-romance fantasy fiction has appeared in Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress and the magazine Aoife's Kiss.

With the Professor Hat on, she’s published scholarly work on romance, fantasy, and folklore, including a book on Welsh mythology in popular culture and a book on ethics in Terry Pratchett’s fantasy. She is happily bisexual, married to the marvelous Awesome Husband, and currently owned by a long-legged black cat named Merlyn.

Author Website: https://klnoone.wordpress.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/kristin.noone/

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/kristinnoone

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/greenwoodoutlaw/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8435102.K_L_Noone

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/k-l-noone/

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/k-l-noone/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/K.L.-Noone/e/B07CWMZ6CP

Happy Unicorn-ian Anniversary! BMBR is offically seven!

BMBR is officially SEVEN today! We thank all that have had a hand or hoof in this special little blog of ours! 2020 has been quite a year and we're thankful to share our love of reading with you!

We're continuing our easy streak for another year! We're sitting back and relaxing all month long... with unicorn snacks, course!

 

You know we're always ready for cake and punch!

 

 

Look at our very first post HERE

 Reminisce with us in our past celebrations below!

Click each year's link and just see how much partying was done:

2018

2017

2016

2015

2014

So enjoy our anniversary month and see all the fun we've had!

Love,
BMBR

P.S. Don't skip the unicorn drink...

Review: The Sex Coach by Garrett Leigh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Nice Catching You: A Holiday Love Story by Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood

Join authors Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood, along with IndiGo Marketing, as they celebrate the release of holiday new adult romance, Nice Catching You: A Holiday Love Story! Read more about the contemporary tale and enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!

 

Title: Nice Catching You: A Holiday Love Story

Author: Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood

Publisher: Wainscott Press

Release Date: 10/30/2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84,000 words

Genre: Romance, Gay Holiday Romance, Contemporary Gay Romance, Holiday Romance

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

What happens when the No. 1 college hockey star in the country falls in love—with a man?
Nick Johnson, a top prospect for a pro hockey team, has a secret: he’s gay. Tired of living in the
closet for the sport he loves, he sees no way out.

Jacob Meyer’s string of bad boyfriends left him cynical about love. Instead, he focuses on his
studies as a third-year law student. With a new job waiting for him, he’s eager to graduate and
move on.

On a school-sponsored trip, Nick and Jacob meet in a most unexpected way. When Nick tells
Jacob his secret, they decide to hang out, just as friends. But their attraction is too strong to
ignore, and they soon begin dating.

Since Nick is a big man on campus, it doesn’t take long for people to notice his attachment to
Jacob. All hell breaks loose when the relationship gets out. As the national media descends,
university officials try to figure out how to solve their “problem.” Their efforts divide Nick’s
team, inflame fans, and put Nick and Jacob’s futures in jeopardy. Will the men be able to
survive a plot to destroy them without derailing both their careers?

Nice Catching You is an out-for-you romance featuring a lot of love, exciting hockey, and a
beautiful holiday. There’s also plenty of steam and a very happy ending.

Excerpt

JACOB

Sunday, December 4

I haven’t been on many buses, but I was starting to think I might die on this one. The snow
began falling before we left Whiteface Mountain early in the afternoon, not unusual for one of
the top ski resorts in the Northeast. We were due in Syracuse before six, and I hoped the weather
didn’t delay us much. The last week of classes would start the next day, and I had work to do.
The snow was coming down hard, and by the time we reached I-87, I could see very little
out the window. Many of the cars had pulled over to the side, and others were creeping along
with their hazards flashing. Our bus joined the traffic and immediately began slipping all over
the road.

With fifty-odd college students on the trip, there had been a lot of noise when we left the
resort, but nerves had soon taken over, and people were mostly quiet now. I sat alone, three rows
from the back of the bus, trying to read a case for Federal Courts. With only one more semester
of law school to go, I needed to do well. A big firm in Boston offered me a job right before
Thanksgiving, contingent on my maintaining a 3.8 GPA. Pulling a C in Fed Courts would bring
me slightly under the requirement. Although I had high hopes for a job in DC, I couldn’t risk
losing the Boston offer.

Between the bus sliding in the snow and the constant chatter from the guys in the seat
behind me, I couldn’t concentrate at all. They were hockey players, and they kept up a
conversation about the game, other players, cars, and whatever else dumb undergrad jocks talk
about. They were the only people behind me except for their friend, who was passed out on a
seat in the back.

Whoa! The rear end of the bus lurched violently into the left lane. I tried to grab something
to hold onto, but I was already airborne by the time I dropped the heavy casebook.
Hands grabbed my shoulders but didn’t slow my momentum. Dreading the impact with the
seat across the aisle, I screwed my eyes shut and held my breath. All at once, something stopped
me. Rather, someone stopped me, and that someone had brawny arms and a hard body. He’d
caught me in midair.

“You all right?”

“What?” On my back in the man’s arms, facing the top of the bus, I couldn’t see much. I
turned my head, trying to find out who had hold of me.

“Everything okay?”

I craned my neck in the other direction just as he leaned over, and it was—shit!—one of the
hockey guys who’d been sitting behind me. I’d seen him over the weekend with his buddies, at
least one of whom had laughed at me the whole time. Now they’d laugh even harder, and I’d be
known as the skinny little runt who couldn’t even stay in his seat—the twit who had to be
rescued by a real man.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Authors

Ryan Taylor and Joshua Harwood met in law school and were married in 2017. They live in a suburb of Washington, DC, and share their home with a big, cuddly German shepherd. Ryan and Josh enjoy travel, friends, and advocating for causes dear to their hearts. Ryan also loves to swim, and Josh likes to putter in the garden whenever he can. The romance they were so lucky to find with each other inspires their stories about love between out and proud men.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail | Instagram | Bookbub | Linktree

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Blog Tour: Painted Lace by K.M. Neuhold

 

Join author K.M. Neuhold and Vibrant Promotions as they host the final day of the Painted Lace blog tour! Read more about the contemporary romance today!

Painted Lace

K.M. Neuhold

M/M Contemporary Romance

Release Date: 10.09.20

Blurb

Austin never realized he was painting his life with shades of gray, until Keaton came along and injected a rainbow of color.

Keaton is a tornado of chaos and paint, which turns out to be more exciting than I ever would’ve imagined. I love my organized, predictable life...or at least I thought I did. But what started as a casual hookup is slowly becoming so much more, and I find myself loving the beautiful mess more than I expected.

 Can two people so different really make it work once feelings get involved?

**** This story was originally published as Kiss and Run in the Valentine’s Inc series. It has since undergone significant changes and doubled in length. 

Universal Link: http://mybook.to/paintedlace

Excerpt

As I take the place in, my eyes land on the canvas in the center of the living room. It must be what he was working on before I showed up. I take a step closer, enthralled by the painting instantly.

“You’re an artist?” I ask stupidly. 

“I am.” He follows me into the living room.

Taking a closer look at the painting, two bodies come into view, writhing together in a colorful blur.

“That’s not art, it’s sex,” I accuse with amusement. 

“Art is sex and sex is art,” he corrects.

“Is it?” I tear my eyes from the canvas to look at Keaton. He nods, taking a step closer, pressing his small, slender body against me. 

“The shapes our bodies make, all the lines and shadows, it’s beautiful. And that moment, that single moment when you’re at your most alive, when it’s instantly clear that this is the meaning of life. There’s nothing left but to feel.” He lets the sentence and the image hang in the air for a moment. “That moment is where art comes from.”

I swallow, suddenly aware that I may be in slightly over my head with Keaton and unwilling to do a damn thing to put the brakes on at this point. 

“I’m not sure I understand; I may need you to show me,” I tease, my voice going deep and gravelly. 

Keaton throws his head back and laughs, his body vibrating against me in an addicting way. 

“Let’s go then.” He gestures to the hallway a few feet away, and I lead the way. 

His bedroom is much like the rest of his apartment, in need of some work but with a personality of its own. His bed sits on the floor rather than up on a bed frame, but the sheets look clean enough. There’s a milk crate next to the bed with a lamp perched on it, along with a joint and a lighter. 

“You want?” he asks, picking up the joint and placing it between his lips. The pucker of those bowed lips fills my mind with filthy thoughts.

I haven’t smoked weed since college. I only did it once back then because I didn’t want to be the square who turned it down. But I remember the pleasant, floaty feeling it gave me. After taking a long inhale, he holds it out to me, his eyebrows raised, and I gingerly take it from him. Feeling like a complete nerd, I place it between my lips and clumsily light it, coughing almost as soon as the smoke fills my lungs, my throat burning like hell. 

Keaton laughs at me, a fond expression on his face, taking the joint back for another toke of his own. This time, instead of handing it back to me, he presses close again, tilting his head up like he’s asking permission for a kiss. I bend close, putting my hands on the small of his back to draw him near, our hard cocks pressing together and our noses bumping. I part my lips, and his brush mine, as he lets smoke billow into my mouth, sweet and a little musky. I’m not sure if it’s the pot or the man himself that has my head swimming. 

When the smoke dissipates, he flicks his tongue out and grazes it along my bottom lip, his eyes shining playfully. Feeling bold and horny with his cute little body in my arms and the bed less than a foot away, I grab Keaton by the back of his neck and smash our lips together. I’m not sure who this man is, controlling my mouth and my body, but he’s certainly a vast improvement from the usually timid, anxious version.

Author K.M.Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she's not writing she's a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero...just kidding, she's likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.

linktr.ee/KMNeuhold

Blog Tour + Giveaway: Expression: Telepaths Rising by Colin D. Vaughn

Searching for new sci-fi to try? Don't miss today's blog tour stop for Expression: Telepaths Rising from author Colin D. Vaughn and Other Worlds Ink! Learn more today and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway!

Colin D. Vaughn has a new queer multi-racial sci fi book out: "Expression: Telepaths Rising." And there's a giveaway!

It’s the year 2113. Telepaths are real. They’re exalted. Feared. Hunters. Hunted. Kingmakers and slaves. With his expression, Ken is catapulted into the ranks of a tiny elite. With immense telepathic potential, he will have to learn how to use his powers and whom to trust. And quickly. Because there are enemies, both within and without, and they’re not going to wait.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN

---

Giveaway

Colin is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47158/?

---

Excerpt

Tarrington placed his datapad on the table. “This begins the psychic assessment of Kenneth Jared Kawashima. Nigel Tarrington, Authorized Facilitator of the Ministry of Citizen Services and Mauricio Vargas, an Authorized MCS Liaison from the Ministry of Psychic Affairs, presiding. Also in attendance are the subject’s father, Takahiro Kawashima; mother, Claire Alma Reed; and sister of minor age, Stephanie Fusako Kawashima.”

Tarrington turned to me: “Kenneth, pursuant to the Telepath Registration Act, as a suspected telepath you are required to undergo psychic assessment. You may not decline, delay or obstruct this hearing in any way. You may, however, have the presence of counsel at this proceeding. If you do not have one available to attend within 24 hours, one will be provided to you by the Ministry. Please touch the datapad and state whether you request or waive counsel.”

All of this was rather pro forma – I was surrounded by my family and it wasn’t as if a lawyer could stop or save me from this process. Not that I wanted it to stop. I touched the pad. “I waive counsel.”

The datapad chirped: “Identity confirmed. Waiver of counsel acknowledged.”

Tarrington turned to my parents. “Please touch the datapad to confirm that you have no objection to this proceeding, its recordation, or your son’s waiver of counsel.”

My parents touched the pad and it chirped: “Identities confirmed. Acknowledgements confirmed.”

Tarrington smiled, “Well, now that all that fussy business is complete. I will turn things over to Mr. Vargas.”

Vargas smiled at me, and then, clear as a bell in my head, I heard him sing a jaunty tune: I am the very model of a modern major general. I am the very model of a modern major general.

I laughed and asked him, “So you’re a general, eh?”

He smiled: No, more like a lowly foot soldier, little brother. Ask me a question. In your head – look into my eyes and say the words of your question one at a time. Remember, don’t speak.

I looked him straight in the eyes and thought: Where. Are. You. From?

Honduras. Suddenly I could see a wide stretch of forest, leading to deeply forested mountains, their tops veiled in low-lying clouds. Though I knew I was still crouched on the floor of our living room, I cool also feel moist spongy earth under my feet, a cool breeze across my cheek. This is my home. Well, actually, my hometown is the metropolis of Gracias a Dios, but the rainforests on the outskirts are what I think of as “home.”

For a moment, I almost felt like it was my home, too. I, who had only ever left Tennessee for our family’s annual trip to the Japan Territory, almost ached to return and hike those forests. Gracias a Dios. Thank you.

It wasn’t until Vargas smiled and said aloud: “My pleasure” that I realized that I had spoken to him mind-to-mind again, but in a natural, almost instinctual, way.

Was this what it meant to be a telepath? This incredible sharing, this intimacy? I felt as if Vargas – no, Mauricio– was some long-lost friend. Could he sense the same about me? I was just about to ask him for more when Tarrington clapped his hands once and said, “I take it that it was a success? He’s a true expressive?” I came to and looked around. My family was just staring at me. At me and Mauricio.

Mauricio nodded, then reached and touched the datapad: “Confirmed that subject’s telepathic gene has expressed, as verified through the receipt and transmission of audio, visual and tactile stimuli between subject and myself.”

Tarrington said: “Excellent! Now, Ken… I may call you ‘Ken,’ yes? . . . You understand that you will be more fully and properly assessed by the Psych Ministry at a later point?” I nodded. He then continued, “However, for myMinistry’s purposes an initial, somewhat rough assessment is necessary. Mr. Vargas will perform this. I am sorry for any discomfort.”

Mauricio then said aloud: “Ken, I will now force myself onto you” – at my sister’s gasp, he addressed everyone and continued – “in a very safe and controlled way, I assure you all. Though unpleasant, I will not harm Ken, I promise you.” Then turning to me: “Ken, what you must do is push me away. Pretend there’s a door that you’re trying to push closed. Or pretend there’s a pot on a heating unit bubbling over that you need to slam a lid onto. Or think of it however you think right – trust your instincts. OK, here goes.”

Then, before I could even begin to ponder what Mauricio was getting at, I saw his green light brighten and felt him touch me as he did before, but somehow both heavier and louder than before. Where before I felt like I was sharing with Mauricio, walking in his shoes, I now felt like he was walking on me. Instead of beautiful forests, I saw a man wielding a leather strap. The man – Father! – started hitting me over and over with the strap, shouting. It hurt! God, had this really happened to Mauricio? Or was this all part of the test? I couldn’t imagine my own gentle father or mother (however strict) ever acting so. But – ow! – the bastard kept hitting me! And I felt so angry, that he was hitting me, that he might possibly once have beaten my friend this way. I jumped up and yanked the strap from him. I then pushed him and lashed the strap across his face. He started to back away and I lunged after him hitting him again and again with the strap…”

---

Author Bio

Colin is a Midwesterner by birth who lives in Washington, D.C. with his husband. Lawyer by day and aspiring writer by night (and lunch break). Since discovering Asimov and Tolkien as a child, he's had a lifelong love of science-fiction and fantasy. And he has enjoyed the explosion of wonderful stories featuring fellow LGBT and people of color.

But the more he read, the more he realized that he had his own tales he wanted to tell. And themes he wanted to explore - power and temptation, social progress, the fall of civilizations, ways to love, futurism, beloved community, and many more.

He very much hopes you enjoy his story!

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/colin.vaughn.5203

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Colin-D.-Vaughn/e/B08FJBW69M/

Cover Reveal + Giveaway: The Last One to Let You Down by K.L. Hiers

Author K.L. Hiers and Gay Book Promotions reveal the beautiful cover for upcoming contemporary BDSM romance, The Last One to Let You Down! Read more about the romance and enter in the giveaway where you could win: a $25 Amazon Gift Card or one of five e-book copies of The Last One to Let You Down! 

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: The Last One to Let You Down

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Covers by Jo 

Release Date: November 13, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, BDSM Romance

Trope/s: Funeral Director/Florist Romance, Blackmail Leads to Love, BDSM Virgin

Themes: Personal Growth, Dealing with Death, Difficult Jobs, Learning to Love Yourself

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 102 000 words

It is a standalone story.

 

Buy Links - Available for Pre-Order

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

 

Blurb

Thomas Hills is a lonely embalmer who's in some big trouble. His ex-boyfriend has been forcing him to illegally sell dangerous chemicals with no signs of stopping, and Tom doesn't know what to do. His situation gets even more complicated when Cypress Holmes, a smoking hot local florist, walks in on Tom making a deal. Cypress agrees to keep quiet, but his silence comes at a price.

He wants Tom to do exactly as he says and to give him complete and total control over his body at all times. Tom now has no choice but to obey Cypress' every command to stay out of jail. But when Cyprus starts spanking him and tying him up, he realizes he doesn't mind the rough treatment at all. With or without the threat of blackmail hanging over his head, he likes what Cypress does to him... and he doesn't want it to stop.

Author’s Note: This book includes intense sexual scenes, rough spankings, and depictions of death and embalming as they relate to the funeral industry. If this material offends or may upset you, please don’t read this book.



Excerpt

“What do you want? Money?” Tom scoffed, huffing in frustration.

“Well,” Cypress said, “you did just take a very serious stack of cash. I am a pretty big fan of money.”

“I can’t give you that! It’s for—” Tom stopped before he said too much, quickly correcting himself. “It’s not even mine, okay? I can’t do that. I don’t have any money to give you. There has to be something else.”

“Right. How about you just drop down on your pretty knees right now and suck my dick then?” Cypress rolled his eyes.

Tom’s loins were assaulted by a sudden surge of heat, and he stared at Cypress’ crotch as his mouth reflexively watered. He’d heard Cypress say that before, to Gerald of all people, and Tom knew he was probably joking.

But if that’s really all it would take...

“Fine,” Tom muttered through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it.”

“Come on,” Cypress was still chiding him, apparently deaf to Tom’s offer. “You really don’t expect me to believe that you don’t get some kinda cut from that—”

Tom raised his voice, snapping, “Hey! I said, I’ll do it!”

“What?” Cypress blinked.

“Suck your dick,” Tom replied, already starting to kneel before he could change his mind. He’d had some pretty rough one night stands before. This wasn’t so different. He could do this, get Cypress off his back, and stay out of jail.

“Stop,” Cypress said, his thick hand grabbing Tom’s shoulder.

“What?” Tom was instantly embarrassed. Oh, this was such a stupid idea. He should have never even tried it. As Cypress held him in place, the very air around them felt charged. He looked at Cypress’ lips, felt the heat of his grip, and he knew something had shifted between them.

Something was happening.

Tom’s face was getting hot, and he gasped when Cypress pulled him in for a fierce kiss. He didn’t even care how it made his busted mouth sting, its burn lost in the passion of their colliding lips. He was actually kissing Cypress, right there in the hallway.

The brewing energy ignited instantly, and Tom was helpless in Cypress’ powerful embrace. He gave himself over completely, groaning loudly when Cypress’ tongue slid inside his mouth. The kiss was deep, hot, and it sent all the right signals to every inch of Tom’s body.

“You’re not sucking me without at least first fuckin’ kissing me,” Cypress murmured, his fingers raking through Tom’s hair and holding him firmly. “You got it?”

“Yeah,” Tom said, panting hard. The way Cypress was so boldly taking charge had no right to be this exciting. Tom had had some bossy lovers before, but no one could compare to the dominance that Cypress was exuding right now.

His reserved attitude had been swallowed up by a hard gaze and an unrelenting aura. Impossibly, he seemed taller than before, and no one had made Tom’s knees quake like this with just a kiss.

“Now,” Cypress said firmly, “you’re going to suck my cock and swallow down what I give you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Tom gasped sharply when Cypress’ grip tightened in his hair.

“Yes... what?” Cypress challenged expectantly.

Tom wasn’t sure how, but he knew immediately what to say, shivering as he replied:

“Yes, sir.”

About the Author

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she’s been working in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.

Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |  Instagram  |   Newsletter Sign-up

 

Giveaway   

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

a $25 Amazon Gift Card

or

one of five e-book copies of The Last One to Let You Down.

a Rafflecopter giveaway 

   

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions