Review: Roman (Demon Rising #1) by Hurri Cosmo

 

I belong to a Demon Lord. His name is Roman. He’s tall, strong, has long dark hair, a deep sexy voice and, let me tell you, absolutely f-ing gorgeous. Yep. I even wear his ring. Third finger, left hand. 

Except – its’s not a wedding band. Far from it, actually. It simply means I’m his submissive. 

Well – it doesn’t really mean that either, although I wish it did. 

No. The ring’s function is only to give me “sight”. Being human, once I had it on, I could suddenly see Roman’s stupid lost legions; very nasty scary things that would as soon kill me as look at me. And because I wear the ring, guess what? It’s now my job to recapture all those creatures for him. Yay me, right? 

At least I get to be close to Roman… sometimes. 

But, to tell you the truth, I was tricked into putting this damn ring on by Cathy, some random woman I met at a park, who unfortunately likes Roman, too. A whole lot. She brazenly flirts with the demon every chance she gets and right in front of me, too. Crap, it pisses me off. In fact, she brags she was the one who found me, got the ring on me and then offered me up to Roman like I was a T-bone steak or something. 

Well – honestly – that part’s okay. 

However, there’s something else going on. Something big. Because there’s another gorgeous Demon Lord in our little earth realm and he will stop at nothing to capture Roman’s loose legions for himself. Not only that, seems he’s out to catch me, as well. 

Huh. My name is Micah and things just got very interesting. 

I’ve read quite a few books by this author and have had a fun time getting caught up in the worlds she creates. The Oletti Shiftters series is a goodie! So, I knew I was a fan of her, generally angst free tales, and the paranormal ones specifically. Roman sounded very intriguing, how do you make a demon a romantic hero? I need to know these things. 

Well, apparently a surefire way is to make the other MC less likable than a demon. The start of the book was strong and the paranormal aspect had a good level of creepy to get me hooked. Unfortunately, Micah, who should have been a sympathetic character, really wasn’t. I liked him until he interacted with other humans for the most part. The conversations didn’t flow and it felt like conclusions were jumped to on the regular. I felt like I must have missed integral portions to interactions that would have made some of the banter make more sense. 

The demon side of the world building was confusing and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the best at following along sometimes, especially when I’m wrapped up in characters, but since I really wasn’t this time around I ended up with a lot of unanswered questions. Why was Micah the chosen human? Why was the plant just around his house? The legions? I needed a better, more logical, fully fleshed out description of those things. I went through my notes on my Kindle and found I marked spots with just question marks after a while. I kind of just gave up and flowed with it all after a bit. 

I wanted to root for Micah and Roman and I do believe the two of them were really into each other. I don’t really know why, but there was a lot of good lust flying around. Most of the time I forgot Roman was supposed to be a demon and probably some of that came from my preconceptions of what a demon should be. I expected more evil to be honest, not mentions of cuddling. I think I would have been way more accepting of Roman if he would have been just about any other paranormal creature. He definitely didn’t come across as evil or a tormentor from the fiery depths of hell. A little darker than some characters, sure, but not demonic. Micah referenced debating whether Roman was “good” or “bad” on multiple occasions and even said “Why were they so fucking secretive and devious and...and…”. I couldn’t help but think, “ummmm, DEMON, soooo, definitely bad and also DEMON, sooo, duh! But yeah, anything but a demon would have worked much better for me for the way Roman was written. 

I could have done without Cathy completely. She was just a shell of a character and there to be the token woman bitch. Comments directed at her ended up being pretty sexist and unnecessary. I get she was the catalyst for a lot of the evil bits, but her presence cheapened said catalyst and detracted from Roman and Micah. I would have much rather read how the two of them truly connected rather than have her character muddy the waters. 

My very last note was at 94% and it was “the answer to everything is ‘because’”. I can only work with that so much myself and really only if the rest of the book is strong enough that I just don’t care. Unfortunately Roman wasn’t strong enough for me, so the unanswered questions stood out. The typos didn’t help either, I didn’t need another thing pulling me out of the story. 

Overall, Roman wasn’t a win for me. That doesn’t mean it won’t be for you or that I won’t be reading more from this author. One personal miss for me doesn’t make me forget how much I’ve enjoyed others books from this author and I look forward to reading more from her.

**a copy of this story was provided for an honest review**

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Cupcakes and Christmas by RJ Scott

Join author RJ Scott and Signal Boost Promotions in celebrating the holiday romance release, Cupcakes and Christmas! Learn more and enter in the backlist eBook giveaway!

ALL BUY LINKS

Cover Design: Meredith Russell

Length: 67,000 words approx.

The story of long nights in a wintry mountain hotel, a baking show with secrets, a snowman called Jeremy, and finding the greatest love of all.

After winning season four of ratings hit the World’s Best Baking Show, Brody Thomas had become a sought-after cake maker to the stars. Happily married, he dreamed of a bright future, but his perfect life imploded when he discovered that his husband had done nothing but lie to him. A year later, Brody is mid-divorce, and his life has been turned upside down, so being part of the WBBS charity event is excellent timing. He’s sure it will give him time away from home and space to get his head straight, only he never expected to meet the man of his dreams in a snowy Alberta.

Winning season one of WBBS gave Justin Mallory a chance to outrun the demons of a childhood lost in the foster system. He’s a social media influencer, with millions of followers, and works every hour to make money that equals security for the rest of his life. His marketing team signs him up for the WBBS Christmas charity show, but he’s convinced he’ll fall at the first hurdle. Only, after a few days in the competition, his worry isn’t that he’ll be the first to leave, it’s that he’ll lose his heart to a rival baker, Brody.

RJ Scott is a USA TODAY bestselling author of over 140 romance and suspense novels. From bodyguards to hockey stars, princes to millionaires, cowboys to military heroes to every-day heroes, she believes that love is love and every man deserves a happy ending.

Find RJ here: Amazon | BookBub | Facebook - Also, Never miss a release

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Eye of the Beholder by Thomas Grant Bruso

Author Thomas Grant Bruso and IndiGo Marketing celebrate the release of paranormal tale, Eye of the Beholder! Read more about the horror and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 

 

Title: Eye of the Beholder

Author: Thomas Grant Bruso

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 16, 2020

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 41900

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, established couple, evil spirits, businessman, law enforcement, mental illness, horror

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Synopsis

In the middle of a psychic session with Madame Petri, David hears a ghostly voice calling his name. But he is not sure if it’s the elderly fortuneteller exaggerating the reading or bizarre grumblings coming from a mysterious old man in a painting hanging in the psychic’s foyer.

When Madame Petri disappears in a ball of flames, David rushes home, terrified. From that moment on, David and his policeman boyfriend, Zane, find themselves trying to solve the series of murders and mayhem that begin to haunt David.

Excerpt

Eye of the Beholder
Thomas Grant Bruso © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
“What do you see?” I asked.

I was sitting across from Madame Petri at the oval-shaped table in the dimly lit backroom of her business, Spiritual Crossings.

The devil-white glow in the medium’s iron-gray eyes pierced through me. “A dead body,” she said. Her bloodred nails were sharp and pointy like talons and wrapped around the cloudy white edges of the crystal ball.

I bit back the sour taste of Cote Rotie from an art exhibit event I had hosted earlier in the evening. All I wanted was a reading of my future, I had told myself after closing the gallery and walking three blocks to Madame Petri’s Spiritual Crossings. Now, I turned to the neighborhood medium and shuddered, my gut clutching.

Some of my art friends had recommended her to me.

“You’ll like her,” one of them had said. “She’s colorful and full of spirit.”

“Go in with an open mind,” somebody else had told me.

Maybe I need new friends.

Clenching the border of the velvet-soft tablecloth, I leaned forward to see if I could glimpse what she had seen in her crystal ball.

There was a bright light in her gaze when she noticed me rising off my seat a few inches to get a better look at the dead body in the cloudy glass ball. But I was drawn back to my chair with a hand clutching my shoulder from behind and pushing me back into my seat.

Blackness swallowed the light in her eyes as if a switch had been turned off inside her, and her gaze fell back to the crystal ball, which was dimming like the low lights in the room.

A steely silence engulfed us.

Balls of sleet smacked against the front glass window in the outer foyer, and the soft sound of thunder rumbled around us. Lights flickered overhead, and a cold draft snuffed out some of the burning incense candles in the dark alcove behind me. A murmur of fear climbed the back of my throat, and I let out a mousy squeal.

When I looked up at Madame Petri’s waxy face, her expression froze.

I clenched my teeth, biting down hard on the cloying taste of cigarettes in my mouth.

Over Madame Petri’s shoulders, I noticed shadowy movements in the other room, and beyond the half-open velvet curtains, the drifting clouds of smoky incense danced like ghosts in the pallid light.

A pale, narrow face stared back at me from the inky blackness: decrepit, deathly white.

I shouted and rose from my chair, breaking the medium’s stern concentration.

Madame Petri stared up at me, her firm grip on the white glass ball unmoving. Her eyes were wide and frightened.

I sucked in short, tight breaths, glancing behind Madame Petri to the outer room, to the far wall where an abstract painting of a haunted face of an old man glared back at me.

David.

I heard my name and froze. Looked around. Let out a deep, shaky breath.

Nothing there.

A trick of the light, that’s all it was, I thought. I adjusted my eyes to the dense grayness and took my seat across from Madame Petri.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wiping my clammy palms on my jeans. “I thought I saw something.”

“You saw it too,” Madame Petri said. The lights in the room dimmed and died and came back.

My mouth was cotton dry, and I shook my head, staring into the still deadness of the medium’s eighty-year-old eyes, thick and hazy with cataracts.

“Saw what?” I stared over her shoulder again at the dark slashes of color in the evocative painting hanging askew in the foyer. It looked like one of the paintings hanging on the walls of my art gallery.

“Death,” Madame Petri said, a crackle in her voice. She raised a jewel-encrusted finger and pointed at me. “Somebody is going to die.”

I rubbed my arms to ward off a chill and heard the harsh warnings of my partner in the corridors of my mind, ridiculing me for shelling out a day’s worth of work to talk to a psychic. How much did it cost you this time to have your future predicted by that phony would-be clairvoyant?

Then the sound of somebody whispering evoked a troubling memory of dead voices. Their small screams floated in the dark like distressed spirits.

“What was that?” I asked, clenching the arm of the chair.

Madame Petri looked around the room and then over at me, a web of wrinkles bracketing the edge of her small mouth. Her tangerine-orange lips stretched into a wide, clownish smile. “The spirits, dear. They’re coming.”

I rose to leave. As I pulled out two twenties from my wallet, Madame Petri reached across the table for my hand. Her fingers were dead cold, and I felt a tremor of electricity when she touched me. “Be careful,” she said, flipping over the Death card from the pile of her tarot cards and tapping it with a black, pointy fingernail. “He who opens the gate must shut it.”

I jerked my hand away and tucked my wallet back into my pants pocket.

The lights flickered again and went out.

Panicking, I stayed still in the dark, calling out for Madame Petri, and hearing movement ten feet from where I stood behind my chair.

“Madame Petri,” I said. “Are you there?”

The heightened smell of decay and burnt flesh and cigarettes aggravated my senses, and a spark of strong pain ignited in the back of my mind.

David.

I heard movement at the other end of the room, somebody bumping into something, and a vase falling and crashing to the floor. Glass shattered.

When I called out Madame Petri’s name again, there was no answer.

I navigated in the dark to the foyer, staying close to the edge of the room and reaching out for the wall to help guide me to the front door.

At the opening to the velvet curtains, lights flashed and turned on in the adjoining rooms. My heart was pounding, my breath short and raspy.

I went to the rain-smattered front door and pushed it open, turning around once at the sound of a door creaking open behind me down the hall, its hinges squawking in protest. I called out Madame Petri’s name, but there was no response. I couldn’t see her anywhere in the semidark hallway through the hazy tendrils of smoke from the blown-out incense candles, but my gaze drifted to the far wall where the painting of the decrepit face of an old man was mounted.

“Madame Petri,” I called out. I reached into my back pocket for my half-smoked pack of Salem’s and my Bic lighter. Flicked it a few times, my hand shaking hard, my heart pounding.

Nothing.

A cold, wet rain blasted me on the back of the neck, and I shivered from the early evening chill.

I lit the end of my cigarette, barely managing to work the lighter, and inhaled a lungful of smoke before shoving the pack of smokes and the cigarette lighter back in my pants pocket.

Then quickly, as if a bolt of lightning flashed through my jumbled thoughts and illuminated my worst nightmares, I glimpsed the haunted painting again to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. The man in the painting was gone, the canvas blank.

Animalistic, ghostly murmurings in throaty growls awakened down the hall.

I ran.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

Thomas Grant Bruso knew at an early age he wanted to be a writer. He has been a voracious reader of genre fiction since he was a kid.

His literary inspirations are Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Ellen Hart, Jim Grimsley, Karin Fossum, Sam J. Miller, Joyce Carol Oates, and John Connolly.

Bruso loves animals, book-reading, writing fiction, prefers Sudoku to crossword puzzles.

In another life, he was a freelance writer and wrote for magazines and newspapers. In college, he was a winner for the Hermon H. Doh Sonnet Competition. Now, he writes book reviews for his hometown newspaper, The Press Republican.

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Release Blitz: Starting Over by Rob Browatzke

Today, read more about second chance romance release blitz Starting Over, courtesy of author Rob Browatzke and Gay Book Promotions!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Starting Over

Author: Rob Browatzke

 Publisher: Rob Browatzke

Cover Artist: AJ Corza

Release Date: November 15, 2020

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance 

Trope: Second chances

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 51 000 words/ 210 pages

It is a standalone story.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 

Life doesn’t often give a second chance. Take it when it comes.

   
Blurb

Fourteen years ago, Dylan and Kent became something more than friends, but it didn’t end well. Now, they’ve run into each other again. This time, they’re both adults, they’re both out, and they both know what they want.

Will that long-ago teenage heartbreak stand in the way of what’s happening between them? Life doesn’t often give second chances, but maybe this is theirs, to start over.



Excerpt

Dylan wasn’t one of those guys who would normally stare off into space reflecting on the past. He liked living in the moment, mostly because he knew his past would trap him like a mosquito in amber if he spent too much time looking back.

But that was before he’d run into Kent Campbell the night before.

He’d known Kent lived in the same city, but Dylan had been here four years now without seeing him. He’d assumed Kent had moved. It was a big city, but not that big. And then, BAM! There he was.

He’d looked good. Damn good. Looking back, Dylan could see that Kent had always been good looking, even if it was something Dylan had never been able to admit. Small wonder Kent had bolted, considering everything that had happened.

It may be water under the bridge, he thought, but it’s water that’s still rising. “Dylan! Enough!”

Dylan blinked and came back to the moment, to Luc snapping his fingers in his face. “Sorry, mind wandered.”

Luc gave him some serious side-eye. “I was telling a story.”

“I live with you,” Dylan reminded. “I know all the stories.”

“That’s not important. Pay attention. You know I like an audience.” He paused. “And speaking

of having an audience...”

Dylan tuned out again as Luc told Ellis and Jay about last night’s sexcapade. It would normally

not be appropriate brunch conversation, but this was the Duchess, and the Sunday morning brunch crowd was almost entirely gays nursing the hangover with bottomless mimosas.

The mood in the room was celebratory for sure. The last months had felt like some endless Thursday afternoon, but the weekend had finally arrived. Everything was moving forward again. Everything, that is, except Dylan, who had barely been able to enjoy the Torch after Kent left. Dylan had ended up calling it an early night just to toss and turn alone in the dark.

He had to find him.

He should have followed him out, is what he should have done. But the boys were pretty insistent he stay and dance, and Kent had been crystal fucking clear that he wanted nothing to do with Dylan. And that made sense. Dylan couldn’t blame him, but he had to find him and tell him that things were different now.

All the things Dylan hadn’t been able to say before, he could say now.

“Dylan Thomas Hedderson, I am not telling you again. Snap the fuck out of it!”

Dylan turned his head to glare at Luc. “Did you just middle name me? You know I hate my

middle name.” His name was the last remnant of his mother’s one-time goal to be an English professor, long before she had traded that in to be Mrs. Richard Hedderson.

Thinking about his father was guaranteed to lead back to thinking about Kent, but it would also get him no closer to finding him. When Dylan had crawled into bed the night before, the first thing he’d done was punch Kent’s name into every social media app he could, with no luck. Disappointing but not unexpected. Most socials were increasingly toxic. Dylan’s own were locked down as tight as they could be, but just in case Kent was lying in his bed somewhere thinking about Dylan the way Dylan was thinking about him, Dylan loosened up those settings before trying to sleep.

He’d barely slept, and when he had, Kent had wandered through what passed for his dreams. When Luc banged on his door to say it was brunch time, he’d barely found the strength to get up.

“Why are you so quiet?” Ellis asked him.

He could lie. He could say he was just tired, which was pretty much not a lie anyway. He could make something up. He could...

“Dylan ran into a boy from his past last night,” Luc said, which pretty much eliminated any of Dylan’s other options.

“Do tell!” Jay said. “Did our golden boy finally get some?”

“He wishes,” Luc said.

“Did you want to tell them everything then?” Dylan asked. “I could just go home.” Luc opened

his mouth, but then clearly thought better and closed it again. Too late, as was typical with Luc, to be honest. It wasn’t that Dylan didn’t want Jay and Ellis to know; it wasn’t even that there was anything to know, really.

It was just whatever there was, it was sitting in this heavy mass in the center of Dylan’s chest. He wasn’t proud of what had happened between them. Actually, he was downright fucking ashamed, and all the guilt he had learned to ignore was now throbbing again.

“A friend from school,” he said, which was, strictly speaking, a lie. It bordered the truth anyway. “A high school sweetheart friend?” Ellis asked, playfully nudging him.

“It was complicated,” Dylan finally answered, in what had to be the understatement of the

fucking century.

“Ugh, those are the worst,” Jay groaned. “I remember our high school’s tight end. He had the

tightest end, let me tell you...”

Grateful to Jay’s interruption and distraction, Dylan let his mind wander again. Not through the

past, because there was nothing there but regret. No, he let it wander through the here and now, because he had made up his mind.

He was going to find Kent Campbell and get the closure they both had never got.

About the Author 

Rob Browatzke, 43, is a storyteller and club owner in Edmonton, Canada. 

This is his ninth published work, his second mm romance.

 

Author Links

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter @robbrowatzke  | Instagram @robbrowatzke

   

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

 

       

Audiobook Review: Bitten by Mistake (Regent's Park Pack #1) by Annabelle Jacobs

From animosity to searing passion in a lunar cycle… but can their bond survive?

Wolf shifter Nathan Kohl’s pack is his whole life. Arrogant and handsome, he avoids commitment to anything or anyone outside of his pack. He works hard, plays hard, and pursues humans as lovers because there’s little to no chance of him forming a permanent bond. However, when Jared Taylor comes into Nathan’s life, every rule is broken.

After a bad experience, Jared vowed to never get involved with another shifter, no matter how much they got under his skin. Despite being physically attracted to Nathan, who’s all kinds of hot, Jared only sees an arrogant, domineering bastard.

A disastrous case of mistaken identity throws Nathan and Jared together until the next full moon. Forced to spend the next twenty-eight days in close proximity, they can no longer ignore the powerful attraction between them. Passion ignites, and their relationship takes a turn neither of them wanted.

But when the full moon comes, everything might change again.

Narrator: Antony Ferguson
Listening Length:8 hours and 41 minutes

Reviewer: Shee Reader

Nathan spots Jared in a club and tries to chat him up, but Jared is not interested. His experience with a shifter really could have given rise to the expression ‘once bitten, twice shy’ and he gives the sexy wolf the slip and gets out of there. On the street though, things get complicated. Jared finds himself caught up in someone else’s drama that leads to him being jumped in an alley and bitten, hard. When he falls to the dirty floor covered by Nathan from the club, Jared is furious (and bleeding). From here, things just get steadily more and more complicated as Nathan somehow convinces Jared to come home with him to his pack house, masking the scent of human with both ejaculate and urine. Such a delightful end to the evening.

Now all they need to do is avoid the authorities or the pack finding out about the bite as Nathan would surely be killed, until the next full moon when the hapless men will find out if ‘the change’ has taken, or if Jared will return to being fully human.

To add to all this drama, the guys conclude the best way to keep Jared safe is to pretend to be dating, hide the bite mark and avoid falling into bed together. Or indeed fall in love!

This story is one rush after another culminating in a dramatic ending and surprising HEA that just about makes up for all the stress and excitement as we see the wolf pack fight a deadly threat, and avoid triggering Jared’s friends to call the authorities when he starts acting even more crazy than usual. It is a real roller coaster that has funny moments and smartly written dialogue and character driven relationships.

One of my favourite scenes was a ‘pretend’ kiss leaving on the side of Nathan’s van, to fool other shifters that they were a hot and heavy couple that left both men feeling all out of sorts and hard as a rock!

The story was written in a style that was unashamedly English in tone and language (set in London) and had a super English narrator. As a Brit myself, it is a rare treat to read a book that hasn’t been ‘smoothed out’ or had language changed for the international market. This book had sofas and flats and vans etc with not a couch, apartment or truck to be seen! The narration was clean and classy.

Recommended.

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

Cover Reveal: The Valet by Mel Gough

 

Historical romance fans, check out today's cover reveal for The Valet from author Mel Gough and Gay Book Promotions!

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: The Valet

Author: Mel Gough

Cover Artist: Black Jazz Design

Release Date: December 1, 2020

Genre/s: Historical M/M Romance

Trope/s: Forbidden love

Themes: Restoring trust

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Goodreads

 

When love does not dare speak its name, trusting is the hardest thing to learn.

Blurb

England, 1910 – Ted has a good situation as first footman at Montague Hall, the splendid Gloucestershire manor of the 6th Earl of Carran. But he has just made a mistake so serious it could cost him his position, and even land him in prison if the authorities found out.

As valet to the 9th Duke of Argyll, Richard’s London life is glamorous. But when he has his heart broken, he longs to get as far away from the city as possible. The pace at Montague Hall might be sedate, but its tranquillity is like a salve to his shattered soul. And unforeseen diversions are to be found even here. Like handsome, despondent first footmen.

The last thing Ted needs is a new temptation. But his Lordship’s new valet isn’t just gorgeous. Richard is also brave and kind – and he wants to make Ted happy, something Ted never dreamt would come to pass.

Trusting again is hard, and in a world that reviles their love happiness is hard-won. Can they hope to carve out a contented life against all odds?



Excerpt

Dorcas was just coming through the baize door, carrying a tray stacked high with serving bowls. Ted hurried to hold the door for her.

“Thank you.” She gave him a smile and quickly but gently deposited her load on a sideboard.

Ted was fond of the head housemaid. They got on well, and unlike many of the other servants, Ted trusted her. Dorcas was plain-spoken and a hard worker, and she didn’t tolerate the mean kind of teasing that some of the younger servants engaged in with impunity.

He went to open one of the tall cabinets where a couple of shelves were bare. “Here, I’ll do it.” He started stacking the bowls on the shelves, which were too high for Dorcas to reach without a footstool.

“Thank you.” Dorcas rubbed her arms. “Golly, those were heavy. Good thing Mrs Stokes didn’t see me. That would’ve been quite the hiding.”

“She would’ve had good reason.” Ted hefted the bowls. “Imagine if you had tripped with these!”

“Yes, but the stairs are steep and narrow, and it’s bad enough coming up once with that huge tray.” She watched as Ted opened a different cupboard and started counting bread plates. “Aren’t you done yet? You’ve been up here an age!”

Ted made a face. “You know what Mr Wymer is like. He won’t stand for a single spoon out of alignment. And Jimmy’s managed to wriggle out from under him, so I’m doing the dogsbody work.”

Dorcas clicked her tongue impatiently. “You have to stop letting him walk all over you, Ted.” She stood with her hands pressed into her sides, shaking her head. “Who’s the first footman, hmm? You or him?”

Ted kept his eyes on the plates. He might have confided many things in Dorcas, but the reason why he didn’t dare vex Jimmy was too shameful to share even with her. “You’re right, of course. But…you know what he’s like.”

“Oh Ted.” Dorcas sighed. “What are we to do with you?” She turned back towards the door to the back stairs, but then wheeled back around. “I nearly forgot! You were up here, and you wouldn’t have heard yet.” With a glance at the door to the dining room, which was half-open, she lowered her voice. “You won’t believe what happened. Mr Brown has handed in his notice. He just told us.”

Ted stared at her. “What do you mean?” He nodded towards the dining room. “But Mr Wymer didn’t say anything. He must be aware.”

“You know what Mr Wymer is like. Discreet to a fault.” Dorcas put on a serious face and lowered her voice. “An upstanding servant does not gossip, Theodore.”

Despite himself, Ted grinned. The imitation was spot on. Then he remembered the news and grew sombre again. “So Mr Brown’s gone.” After Dorcas, the Earl’s valet was Ted’s second favourite amongst the servants. They weren’t bosom friends – clearly, or Mr Brown would’ve confided his plans in him – but Ted valued the man’s support against Jimmy and Mrs Dankworth, who was the Countess’s lady’s maid and who liked to team up with Jimmy to make Ted’s life hell. Losing the valet would bring change to the balance downstairs, and that would not bode well for Ted. An unease settled in his gut.

Dorcas seemed not to notice. “He’s not gone yet, but he will be by the end of the week. The Earl agreed to let him go on short notice. You know he’s courting the daughter of that Cheltenham pub. Her father died a few days ago, and they need to move quickly so that the pub can stay open.”

“Mr Brown is going to be a pub landlord.” Ted was bemused by the idea. “You’d think that being valet for an Earl would beat that life any day.” He couldn’t imagine leaving service. The work at Montague Hall wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, but the house was comfortable and the Peytons were fair employers. After what he’d left behind at home in Yorkshire, this house was paradise. But then he remembered the impossible situation he’d gotten himself into with Jimmy. Maybe starting over new somewhere wouldn’t be so bad.

Dorcas shrugged. “I guess love trumps all in the end.”

Ted didn’t know what to say to that. He knew that people like Dorcas believed this, but he also knew that for people like him, this was not likely to ever happen. He picked up the stack of plates. “I better take these through, before Mr Wymer sends out a search party.”

“Right you are.” Dorcas gave him a smile and a wave, and vanished through the baize door.

About the Author 

Mel Gough loves writing about love – but with a twist. Nominated for the 2019 Selfies Awards, her bisexual romantic suspense novel He is Mine is a typical Mel Gough story. She needs her HEA fix, but on the way there will be thorns and fire, and sometimes brimstone. All right, that might be over the top, especially since her stories are firmly based in the real world - though not always in the here and now.

Born in Germany, exploring other realities has been Mel’s siren call since she was young. Books opened up a plethora of worlds, and soon gave her a strong love of the English language. After an MA in Anthropology, field work in the middle of nowhere seemed like one adventure too far, so Mel settled in London, which, to misquote Dr. Johnson, she will never tire of.

Mel loves to bend genres – her romances are gritty and dark, and sometimes there’s a dead body. She’s been told that her prose is beautiful yet disturbingly real. She’s curious about bygone times, and hopes to speculate about the future in one of her next books.

  

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Love in the Shadows by Maggie Doolan

Join author Maggie Doolan and IndiGo Marketing as they host today's release blitz for Love in the Shadows! Learn more about the romance set in the 70's and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 

Title: Love in the Shadows

Author: Maggie Doolin

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 16, 2020

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 49400

Genre: Historical (20th century), LGBTQIA+, UST, coming out, Ireland, slow burn, Student, teacher, historical, 1970s

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Synopsis

Meg Mitchell is about to enter her final year of secondary school in the small close-knit village of Curramore in rural Ireland. But even at eighteen, she has never had the joyful experience of first love with any of the boys she has met or gone out with. However, that’s about to change with the arrival of dynamic young English teacher, Harriet Smith. Under the charismatic Harriet, Meg blossoms and discovers that she has a real talent for English. She also finds herself inexplicably drawn to Harriet. Over time, Meg’s feelings deepen, but this is 1970s Ireland where homosexuality is still a crime, where sex of any description is never discussed, and where an all–powerful harsh and repressive Catholic Church holds sway over every aspect of family life. In this climate, Meg will face many challenges, from her family, her community, and her own desires. She will have to choose a path forward despite difficulties that, at times, seem insurmountable.

Excerpt

Love in the Shadows Maggie Doolin © 2020 All Rights Reserved August 1975. County Limerick, Ireland. The August evening is gloriously mellow and warm with insects flitting among the bushes in the garden, and Sheridan’s Hill across the way is covered in a golden haze. “This is the kind of day,” Meg mused, “that signals the end of the summer holidays. A day this perfect has to be an omen of some misfortune.” “Wow, how philosophical,” Aisling said, rolling her eyes. She lay sprawled under the old horse chestnut, taking advantage of its dappled shade. “But I know what you mean. Think, this day next week—an end to freedom. Instead, we’ll have the jangling of bells, boring old classes, and teachers constantly talking about the Leaving. Blah, blah, blah.” She let out a long groan, the palm of her hand against her forehead. Meg grimaced. “Yeah, and Boyce threatening us at least once in each class with being thrown into Ordinary level maths.” They both fell silent, lost in their own worries. Meg, at eighteen, older than Aisling by a mere two months, frowned. At five foot four, she wished she would grow another few inches. She had brown hair with a natural wave, a narrow face that lit up with mischief, and mesmerising green eyes, or so she’d been told. She and Aisling had met on the first day of primary school, and they’d been friends ever since. Standing at least five foot eight tall, Aisling had shoulder-length blonde hair and never found herself at a loss for a word. Her father had died when she was only a baby, and she’d grown up with her older brother and mother under a mile from where Meg lived with her parents and brother on the far side of the small village of Tullybawn. They were constantly in and out of each other’s houses, and both mothers joked they had each acquired a second daughter. Aisling was outgoing and interested in doing while Meg, though popular and quick-witted, loved reading, and was, as her exasperated mother reminded her frequently, “A bit of a dreamer.” “This year is going to be pretty grim, I fear.” Aisling frowned. “I’m terrified of biology, and I badly need that honour to get into nursing.” “Yeah, I know how you feel,” Meg replied, blowing out through puffed cheeks as she shook her head. “I’m depending on the council grant for college, so I need four honours. Irish is grand, and I’m fine with geography and history, but English is a real challenge. I don’t understand what those poets are babbling on about. And as for Shakespeare, oh my God! At least Boyce can teach, but Clancy is a total disaster.” They fell silent again. Meg glanced around the garden, her gaze caught by the swing hanging from the old beech. The wood faded now with age, and she visualised her father, sleeves rolled up and tongue slightly protruding, as he fixed the timber seat in place before climbing up the ladder to hang it from the tree. She and her brother, Luke, had danced around with excitement, driving her father mad with their impatience to try it out. She recalled the heady sensation of whizzing through the air. She had imagined taking off and soaring skywards like a bird. “Higher! Higher!” she’d shouted at her father as Luke pulled at his trouser leg, impatient for his turn. She loved their large garden with its trees, and the river at the bottom where her mother showed them how to catch minnows in jam jars, as excited as they were. Barefoot, they’d burrow one foot under the bank to flush out the tiny, darting fish. Her face softened, worries about the Leaving temporarily forgotten as she basked in the warm glow of the past. A bike whizzing past the house and a hello thrown over the hedge recalled her to the present. She scrunched her face at Aisling, and they both giggled. “C’mon,” Aisling cried, jumping up and striking a dramatic pose. “Things might be a whole lot worse. We might have lived during the time of arranged marriages, and at this moment, be contemplating your wedding to Mr Timmy Cronin, known to one and all, friend and foe alike, as Timmy Bucket Arse. Imagine, that would give you the unenviable title of Mrs Timmy Bucket Arse, honeymooning on a bicycle made for two…” The last few words were sung theatrically before they both dissolved into fits of giggles again. For the moment, the Leaving Cert and honours and grants were swept from their minds. Time enough to worry about all that when they returned to school next week.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

Maggie Doolin lives in County Cork, Ireland. She was born in the late 1950s into an Ireland that was dark, harsh and repressive. She has two adult children and works as a secondary teacher to keep her pet miniature Yorkie Terrier in the style to which she has become accustomed. Maggie is also a successful playwright and with a fellow playwright has a small theatre company that stages plays bi-annually. Love in the Shadows is her debut novel.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Last One to Let You Down by K.L. Hiers

Author K.L. Hiers and Gay Book Promotions host today's release blitz for The Last One to Let You Down! Read more about the BDSM romance and enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!

RELEASE BLITZ

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.

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Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

 

  

Blurb

Thomas Hill 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's every command to stay out of jail. But when Cypress 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

Tom was an embalmer, and he’d been working at Crosby-Ayers Funeral Home in Mayfield, North Carolina, for over ten years. He’d done his apprenticeship there after graduating mortuary school and had stayed on once he’d gotten his license. The funeral home was busy enough to support him working solely as an embalmer, and he didn’t have to meet with families like Aaron, who was a funeral director.

Aaron had the right look for it. He was handsome, olive skinned with curly black hair and a confident smile. He could offer sympathy with ease and wore a suit well.

Tom… not so much.

He felt like a silly kid playing dress-up when he wore a suit, and they were always too tight no matter how much he tried to lose the stubborn weight he carried around his stomach and thighs. He was only wearing one today because he thought he was going to have to help out on a funeral.

They hadn’t needed him after all, which was fine by Tom. He didn’t do well with the living, and he’d been told more than once that he came off as creepy.

He was quite pale with chin length mousy brown hair, and his big blue eyes gave him an owlish appearance. He thought it made him look startled or afraid, not quite right for instilling confidence in a family that he was going to help them through their difficult time.

It also didn’t help that he was painfully shy.

Fortunately for Tom, his embalming talents usually kept him in the preparation room and away from families. His specialty was restorative art, repairing those who had suffered traumatic deaths so that their families could see them again.

The woman he had just finished was a Mrs. Jan Winslow, who had died on a Friday, and her body was not found until Monday. During that time, her beloved Pomeranian, Mister Doodles, had eaten the entire right half of her face.

“Walk me through it,” Aaron asked eagerly. “Like, tell me how you do it?”

“Well, you can’t do anything really until after you’ve embalmed them.” Tom stood up and stretched, peeling off his gloves and dropping them into the biohazard trash. “Makeup and the wax we use doesn’t stick that great to unembalmed skin. Slides right off if you’re not careful.

“The next step is cauterizing all of that exposed tissue. Embalming helps dry it out some, but you really wanna make sure it doesn’t leak so we use other chemicals, cauterants like Dryene, to help. Once the skin is good and dry, then we start filling.”

“What do you fill it with? I mean, I saw her before. There was a lot… missing.”

“You can use a bunch of different things depending on how big the wound is,” Tom replied, pulling open the prep room door and ushering Aaron out into the hallway.

It was often full of freshly delivered caskets, stretchers, and bags from the linen service, and today was no different. Tom had to carefully navigate around two caskets and a stack of towels, trying to lead Aaron back out to the offices to continue their conversation.

“Old school embalmers would use newspaper or cotton,” Tom went on, grabbing his suit jacket off the rack by the office door. “These days, they actually make compounds called ‘wound filler’ to well, fill wounds. And then—” He paused when he heard a loud slam, glancing back over his shoulder to see what it was.

At the other end of the hall were three doors. The one on the right led into the walk-in cooler, the one directly opposite the office door was an exit that led into the side parking lot, and the one on the left connected the hallway to the garage. The coaches and limos were stored there, and there was a special door in the corner for flower deliveries.

All of the doors for employees required a code to enter except for that one, and it stayed unlocked during business hours for flower deliveries. Someone could get inside the garage to drop off arrangements, but they wouldn’t be able to get into the hallway.

The hallway door to the garage had been left propped open, probably from a casket being delivered earlier, and the sound Tom had heard was the flower delivery door slamming inside the garage. As his heart began to pound in anticipation, he forgot all about Aaron.

HFG might be here.

Hot Flower Guy.

“Hey, where are you going?” Aaron protested.

“Just go to the office!” Tom called back, already halfway back down the hall. “I’ll meet you in there!”

“Okay,” Aaron replied reluctantly. “Then you’ll finish telling me about wound filler stuff?”

“Scout’s honor!” Tom slowed down as he approached the open door, putting his jacket on and trying not to appear too eager as he stepped inside the garage. He broke into a huge smile when he saw it was HFG in all of his bulging glory.

HFG was black, tall, and broad with thick shoulders and an even thicker beard framing his dark brown face, and Tom had daydreamed about running his hands all over his body. They had barely even spoken more than a few words, but Tom had a definite crush.

The funeral home hours didn’t give Tom much freedom and being on call almost every night killed any chance of an active social life. After a nasty breakup followed by a disappointing string of one night stands through dating apps, he’d committed to staying single until the funeral home hired more help.

In the meantime, he’d grown quite fond of HFG’s deliveries. He didn’t even know his name, but he’d been trying to find out for weeks. HFG was always in and out too quickly to ever strike up a conversation, and Tom wanted a name to go with that gorgeous face.

It didn’t matter that HFG was painfully out of his league—unless he happened to be into pasty white brunettes who had never grown out of their baby fat with big chins and an awkward little gap between their front teeth.

Tom had been cruelly teased about his smile since he was a little kid, no doubt the root of his introverted nature, but he was too excited about seeing HFG to care for once. As he stepped into the garage, however, his joy instantly faded.

HFG was there, but he was arguing with the assistant manager of the funeral home, Gerald Ayers.

Gerald was a prick.

No, he was the absolute king of pricks.

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.

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

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Audiobook Tour: A Boy Made of Sunshine by Colette Davison

Author Colette Davison and Gay Book Promotions host today's tour stop for the Dan Calley narrated audio book, A Boy Made of Sunshine! Check out more info on the daddy kink romance!

AUDIOBOOK REVIEW TOUR

Book Title:  A Boy Made of Sunshine

Author: Colette Davison

Publisher: Independently Published

Narrator: Dan Calley

Release Date: October 20, 2020

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Grumpy one falls for the sunshine one,

opposites attract, Daddy kink, age-gap

Themes: Patience

Heat Rating: 4 flames        

Length:  6 hours and 26 minutes

It is a standalone story.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Universal link  |  Audible US  |  Audible UK

 

A strict Daddy. A sassy neighbour. Can opposites attract?

 

Blurb

After taking early retirement, Liam is happy avoiding people and tending to his roses. Or he was, until young film star Felix moves in next door.

With his cheeky, persistent, and very naughty behaviour, Felix gets under Liam’s skin instantly.

Felix needs Liam to teach him how to behave, but will calling the older man Daddy be enough to bring sunshine into Liam’s life?

A Boy Made of Sunshine is a standalone gay romance, with mild D/s play, Daddy kink, a cute Dalmatian puppy, a ridiculous glow in the dark toy, and lots of brattish behaviour.

 

About the Author 

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

  

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: The Wicked Stepbrother and Other Stories by Warren Rochelle

Author Warren Rochelle and Other Worlds Ink host today's blog tour stop for collection, The Wicked Stepbrother and Other Stories! Read more about gay fairy tale collection and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway! 

Warren Rochelle has a new collection of gay fairy tales out: "The Wicked Stepbrother and Other Stories." And there's a giveaway!

Fairy tales. We all know the traditional stories, right? Prince Charming, the hero, fights evil, wins the princess, happily ever after. Three sons, three wishes, witches, dragons, a quest, and happily ever after.

These stories are part of our cultural fabric. We retell them, over and over, and the stories change in the retellings, to reflect contemporary culture, such as Princess Charming, heroes and heroines as people of color. It has been only relatively recently that queer folk have found their way into the retellings, as they have here, in this collection of stories, stories that grew out of questions:

What if the prince falls in love with Cinderella’s gay stepbrother?

What if Rumpelstiltskin doesn’t really want the Queen’s child? He wants his old boyfriend back, the King.

What if Beauty and the Beast were two men?

As fairy tales do, these stories explore the human condition, human experience, through the metaphors of magic and the magical, exploring what it means to be human. After all, all fairy tales are true. But this time, with a gay perspective.

In these tales, retellings and original ones, readers are asked to consider what price must be paid for happily ever after—which is not guaranteed. Love, on the other hand, without a doubt. These tales are love stories.

Duty or love? Is love worth great sacrifice?

So… once upon a time….

Publisher | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

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Giveaway

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

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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47159/?

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Excerpt

From “The Wicked Stepbrother.”

“Well. Lord Culver, are we done? Are there no more women to try on the shoe?” Aidan asked as he stood from where he had sat all morning, next to my grandfather’s great tome of a dictionary.

I was about to say no when my stable manager interrupted. “There’s one more, Elena. She’s in the kitchen, washing dishes. I saw her there when I came up.”

Before I could protest, Aidan ordered her brought to the library.

When Elena came in, her hair braided and pulled back to keep it out of the sink, I knew, with a sudden certainty, who had stared at me before running away. She had to have had magical help. She glanced at me before sitting down in the chair facing Aidan and his shoe. A quick flash of triumph.

I hated her.

Of course, the crystal slipper fit. Of course, she had its mate in her apron pocket.

“I have found her—my wife-to-be,” Aidan said as he stood, taking Elena’s hand, and gesturing to the room. Every woman still in line, all the male staff around me, my stable manager, the prince’s entourage, burst into applause. I clapped, too, even though I felt like I was going to throw up.

So much for my half-loaf.

An hour before they left for the capital, after a dove was sent ahead with the news, Aidan took me aside, taking me back to the library. Holding my hand, he sat me down in an overstuffed chair in a reading alcove that overlooked the orchards.

“Cal. It’s going to be all right. I have to marry her, and get her with child, but you are my true love; you’ll be my mistress—my lover. I’ll fix that house for you. Cal?”

“Aidan, that might have worked with any other woman but not Elena. She hates me, and—I’ve not been nice to her. She won’t share.”

There was a knock at the door, and the soft voice of one of his guards: “Your Highness. The Lady Elena has bathed and dressed. Her companion is ready as well. Your car is ready; another dove was sent to the King telling him you and the Lady are due to arrive soon.”

“I will meet everyone at the car in ten minutes,” Aidan shouted back through the door. Then he turned to me. “She’ll share; she’ll have her place and you’ll have yours. Here, in my heart, no one closer. Walk with me to the car.”

I so wanted to believe him, and I did until we walked down the steps. I recognized the companion, who waited by the prince’s car, the little old lady who lived by the river, her old maid. And I smelled her: first folk, a pureblood, a true silver. I clenched my teeth. That old hag had done the magic for Elena. I learned later the old bitch had been with Elena since her birth and with the earl’s family for at least three generations. She had been biding her time in that little house by the river. Now she stared at me, with a triumphant smirk. I sniffed again: she was very powerful and she wasn’t afraid of me.

“Lord Culver.”

I jerked around to face Elena. She was beautiful, as she had been when she came to Colomendy years ago. So, the hag had hidden her weak eye—some magical disguise. She glanced back quickly to find Aidan, who was at the door, conferring with his head guard and chauffeur, then turned back to me, getting as close as she could without touching.

“You monster. You lose,” she hissed, her breath warmth on my face.

“It’s not over; he’s mine. He wants me, not you,” I hissed back.

“He wants you?” She stared at me, incredulous, then glanced again at Aidan who was still talking to his servants. She laughed. “All the better then, eh?”

Then, in a flurry of commands and good-byes and thank yous (and one furtive squeeze of my hand) they were gone.

***

A month and a half later, on New Year’s Day, they were married.

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Author Bio

Warren Rochelle lives in Charlottesville, Virginia, and has just retired from teaching English at the University of Mary Washington. His short fiction and poetry have been published in such journals and anthologies as Icarus, North Carolina Literary Review, Forbidden Lines, Aboriginal Science Fiction, Collective Fallout, Queer Fish 2, Empty Oaks, Quantum Fairy Tales, Migration, The Silver Gryphon, Jaelle Her Book, Colonnades, and Graffiti, as well as the Asheville Poetry Review, GW Magazine, Crucible, The Charlotte Poetry Review, and Romance and Beyond.

His short story, “The Golden Boy,” was a finalist for the 2004 Spectrum Award for Short Fiction. His short story “Mirrors,” was just published in Under A Green Rose, a queering romance anthology, from Cuil Press. “The Latest Thing,” a flash fiction story, is forthcoming in the Queer Sci Fi anthology, Innovation.

Rochelle is also the author of four novels: The Wild Boy (2001), Harvest of Changelings (2007), and The Called (2010), all published by Golden Gryphon Press, and The Werewolf and His Boy, published by Samhain Publishing in September 2016. The Werewolf and His Boy was re-released from JMS Books in August 2020. The Wicked Stepbrother and Other Stories is forthcoming from JMS Books in late September 2020.

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/warren.rochelle

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/warrenwriter

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/38355.Warren_Rochelle