Review: The Fall Guy by Chris Quinton

In 1920s New York, Pinkerton Agent John Brady is assigned to a brutal robbery/kidnapping, an open and shut case with an obvious culprit - but nothing and no one are what they seem.

Small-time crook Cesare Donati has the perfect getaway: a transatlantic cruise ship. When Brady turns up at his cabin door, Cesare knows he is out of options until they reach England.

Will London be a safe haven or a place of reckoning?


Chris Quinton knows how to write a short story.

It’s really hard to believe this book is listed as 32 pages because it struck me with the same impact as a novella at minimum. The author managed to build a world, introduce me to amazing characters and complete a mystery in those scant 32 pages.

John, the earnest and lonely Pinkerton detective and Cesare, the dreamy bad boy with a heart of gold are a great match. Their attraction to one another was instant but not rushed and moved forward as the mystery did. The mystery and evolution of the relationship paced well together and made the whole story flow.

Both characters had a ton of appeal in their own ways and I loved getting to know both of them. The writing showed me the men, their lives and enough of their backstories to understand their motives in everything they did. John is a stand up guy from the moment he’s introduced, he’s someone you wish you could know more of and Cesare’s questionable reputation makes him the perfect foil for John. Their differences could have led to a wealth of angst, but instead the two have a common goal in saving a young woman and honestly, only good guys do that, regardless of their history.

The language and pace read authentically for a historic tale, the balance was well done. Too much would have been campy but this was just enough to be fun to read.

Everything was wrapped up rather quickly and the bow it was tied in was a little too neat (especially considering we’re talking about two gay men in the 1920’s), but, the tidiness of it all was necessary considering the length of the story. So, while not high on the realistic side, it was still completely satisfying.




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

Reelase Blitz + Giveaway: Crossing the Touchline (Auckland Med. #2) by Jay Hogan


Author Jay Hogan and Signal Boost Promotions celebrate the Dreamspinner Press release of rugby romance, Crossing the Touchline (Auckland Med. #2)! Learn more and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway!






Cover Design: Kanaxa


Length: 119,000 words approx.


Publisher: Dreamspinner Press


Blurb


An Auckland Med. Story


What if you’ve worked your whole life for a dream, to play rugby for the most successful sports team on the planet, the New Zealand All Blacks?


What if that dream is so close you can smell it?


What if you meet someone?


What if you fall in love?


What if your dream will cost the man who’s stolen your heart?


And what if the dream changes?



Reuben Taylor has a choice to make.


Cameron Wano is that choice.



Jay Hogan is a New Zealand author writing in m/m romance, romantic suspense and fantasy. She has travelled extensively and has lived in quite a few countries. She has a BA degree in Nursing and in Theology, and in another life, she was an Intensive Care Nurse, Counselor, and a Lecturer.


She is a cat aficionado especially of Maine Coons, and an avid dog lover (but don’t tell the cat). She loves to cook- pretty damn good, loves to sing - pretty damn average, and as for loving full-time writing -absolutely… depending of course on the day, the word count, the deadline, how obliging her characters are, the ambient temperature in the Western Sahara, whether Jupiter is rising, the size of the ozone hole over New Zealand and how much coffee she’s had.


She has complex boys telling stories in her head that demand attention and a considerable number of words to go with them. Their journeys are never straightforward and even surprise Jay. She does her best to plot things out ahead of time but those pesky characters seem to have a mind of their own. Go figure.


You can find Jay at:

https://www.facebook.com/JayHoganAuthor

https://twitter.com/jayhoganauthor

jayhoganauthor@gmail.com


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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Where Song Replaces Silence by Layla Dorine


Celebrate the release of Where Song Replaces Silence with author Layla Dorine and IndiGo Marketing! Learn more about the new fantasy and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!



Title: Where Song Replaces Silence
Author: Layla Dorine
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: April 22, 2019
Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 33300
Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, abduction, anger, Brownies, faeries, gay, hurt/comfort, mythical creatures, nymphs

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Synopsis

Raze halts his midnight joy ride to give chase to twinkling lights that appear in the road before him and then lead him deep into a forest, where he falls into another world. There, magic is real, wishes are granted, and no one is considered odd or out of place.

Raze has never fit in anywhere in his own world and uses his angry attitude to keep others at bay and mask his anxieties and fears in this new place. A dangerous combination in Loas, where rudeness is frowned upon and foul language can land him in a dungeon.

Rurin, an inhabitant of Loas, tries to teach Raze about their world, its magic and its residents, but he faces Raze’s stubborn resistance at every turn. Bitter about his past, pessimistic about his future, Raze sees what could be, but he struggles to accept it. In the meantime, his encounters with the Fae range from hostile sarcasm to potential danger. While he attempts to keep the promises he’s made to Rurin and follow the rules laid out for him, Raze grows more and more curious about the place where he’s landed. It’s too bad he keeps making poor choices.

As the connection between them grows, Rurin works to keep Raze from being banished, but Raze may be cast out of the Loas before he has the opportunity to discover the true reason he was led there in the first place.

Excerpt

Where Song Replaces Silence
Layla Dorine © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Heavy, the steady thud, thud, thud of the base rocked the back windows, and poured from the open driver’s side where the scent of rain flowed freely, mist lightly splashing on Raze’s face. “Four Rusted Horses” blared from a radio cranked so high the rain-covered glass vibrated with the force of the speakers’ efforts.

Thud, thud, thud, “forbidden…” Raze growled along, more snarl than song. Thud, thud, thud, “heaven…” Every word committed to memory. Thud, thud, thud, “useless…” Despite the slickness of the road, he drove with just two fingers, his free hand tapping out a beat on the shifter. Thud, thud, thud, “hell…” Glowing red numbers on the dash flipped from 2:59 to 3:00, the witching hour, the night so dark the headlights struggled to pierce the dim and fog.

The old Charger’s purr was a gospel choir of spark plugs and gears. His steel and chrome baby was the only thing in life Raze worked hard to care for. Some might even say he worshipped her power and speed, stroked her like a lover, and spent more than one night curled against the supple leather of her seats. He called her Rhea, after Saturn’s second largest moon. As a kid, he’d had a collection of beautiful photos of the ringed planet.

For most, this might have been motivation to aim high, study astrophysics or astronomy, anything that might put them closer to the cosmos. Not Raze. If he was behind the wheel, space and time were irrelevant; the world shrank, melted, and faded away. The song reached its crescendo, and he drummed along, eyes half closed as he pressed harder on the gas, felt the wind snarl and tug at his hair—sharp, like cold teeth. Tensing, he belted out the final verse, barely keeping Rhea on the road.

Exhilaration warred with exhaustion, the miles piling up for hours. A quick glance at the dash showed the gas tank was drifting below a fourth, dangerous territory when he had no clue where to find the nearest station. Common sense said he should have stopped at the last place he saw, but the rebel flags in the window made him wary. He’d always had a tough time understanding how people could hate someone so absolutely over something as simple as the color of their skin.

His own varied, based on how much time he spent in the sun. Most days, his skin glowed like the beach at sunrise, the sand shimmering a glowing golden hue. In the summer, though, his skin grew three shades darker, and if he wasn’t careful, a crop of freckles would appear splattered across his nose. He hated them as much as he hated the odd, three-toned hues of his hair, and how, no matter how many times he dyed the messy mane, he could never quite get his locks to turn out one color.

The long strands needed another treatment, the rich reds were like blood and rubies, or at least, that’s how a multitude of people had described the color over the years. A few, being kind, had likened the shade to fall leaves or a sunset, but kindness hadn’t been a common occurrence growing up. His so-called oddities had always made others uncomfortable. Funny, but ever since he’d learned the meaning of normal the idea had freaked the hell outta him. One of the many reasons he was still drifting.

Shit!

Slamming on the brakes, he jerked the wheel, sending Rhea spinning through the dancing green-gold figure appearing out of nowhere, swathed in a halo of lights. Somehow, despite the rows of waving trees, he got Rhea stopped without clipping one. His throat hurt, and his chest was pounding, lungs heaving as he sucked in air. Breathing and trying to relax the death grip on the wheel at the same time was a struggle. His fingers ached. Stiff and cramping, they refused to cooperate, no matter how hard he focused. Shaking, he collapsed against the wheel, the weight of his body sounding the horn, the echo a forlorn cry above the howling wind.

Shit shit shit shit shit

The only word he could formulate, shit, a mantra, running through his brain. There hadn’t been a thud. He hadn’t felt one, hadn’t heard one, meaning he’d missed them, right?

He didn’t want to look, but he knew he had to. Maybe they’d tripped, fallen, dived out of the way, rolled. They could be hurt, but not as bad as if he’d struck them with nearly two tons of metal. Swallowing, he told himself to man up, jerked his fingers free of their grip on the wheel, and sucked in a deep breath as he fumbled in the darkness for his phone. Three bars. Good, he could get them help if they needed it.

He fumbled with the door, got it open on the second try, and practically fell getting out, his body rebelling with every movement. For a moment, he stood in darkness, disoriented as he tried to figure out which direction he’d been coming from. When he spotted the twinkling green lights over the road, he blinked and stumble staggered toward the glowing apparition, watching the fragments of gold swirl and take shape, hovering, the form human, but not.

The fuck?

About fifty feet away, he could hear laughter, a mocking, teasing jangle of bell-like notes.

“You missed me, you missed me.”

Huh?

Squinting, he struggled to assess the situation, even as the words continued.

“Now you gotta kiss me.”

Oh, hell no. Either he was hallucinating, or he’d smacked his head on something. Either way, he was gonna wake up in a few minutes to darkness, a whining engine, and a pounding headache even the best painkillers wouldn’t cure.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he pressed his fingertips against his temples, counting to ten, but the laughter and singsong words continued.

“You think this is funny!” he roared, hands dropping to his sides, fingers curling into fists. He took a step forward and then another. “You could have gotten me killed; you could have fucked up my car; how fuckin’ stupid do you have to be, playing games out here in the middle of nowhere! Do you get off on fucking with people, huh? I swear to god, if there is a fuckin’ piston outta place in Rhea, you’re gonna pay to have her fixed.”

The laughter grew, even as he stalked the light. Only when he was within grasping range did it turn and flee toward the forest, glancing back every now and again to taunt him more.

“You can run, run, run, but when you’re done, you will never catch me.”

“Oh, you better believe Imma catch you, and when I do, Imma beat the sparkle offa you!” he screamed, crashing through the underbrush after it. It occurred to him, as he slipped and floundered, like as not, he was chasing swamp gas or some fucked-up idea of a joke involving holograms and projectors. They were probably sitting in a tree laughing at his stupidity. Didn’t stop him from continuing to give chase.

Tripping, he landed facedown in prickly brambles.

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

Yowling, he carefully tried to detangle himself while the laughter continued to grate on his nerves.

“Clumsy, aren’t we? My, my, my, that’s a very fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Me? You’re the one who led me into this crap.”

“If you’d been faster, or smarter, perhaps you’d have used your wings, instead of stumbling around like a blind Alp-luachra searching for its next joint.”

“Wish I was sitting somewhere warm and dry smokin’ a joint right about now,” he grumbled beneath his breath, even as the sparkling flake of glittery light continued to cackle, twinkling like a firefly with every high-pitched note.

“Ah, but your wishes matter little to me. I lack the ability to grant them, and even if I could, I wouldn’t, until we’ve finished our game, though you are a poor, poor chaser. Perhaps you would be a better seeker. Shall I hide and see if you can find me?”

“Please don’t; actually, no, wait; please do. Yeah, that’s brilliant. You go hide, and I’ll come find you…in a century or two.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Layla Dorine lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and dabbling with several artistic mediums. In addition, she loves to travel and visit museums, historic, and haunted places.

Layla got hooked on writing as a child, starting with poetry and then branching out, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Pinterest

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Ties that Bind by Alex Whitehall


Welcome author Alex Whitehall and the Ties that Bind blog tour to the clubhouse today! Alex shares information about the new fantasy! Plus comment on today's blog post for a chance to win either an ebook copy of Hard Truths or an Audible download of Magic Runs Deep!



Thank you for joining me on my blog tour for Ties That Bind, the story of three men searching for a way to keep one of them alive. Now out at all major retailers!


For Chel, Tomlin, and Mathias, life is simple but good. They share a home and a love, and despite a few conflicts of personality, are happy. Mathias runs a magic shop, where he makes magic items and potions for his customers, and Tom is his familiar, helping supply his magic. Chel, who's not magical, works at a bookshop and makes sure dinner is on the table for his lovers.

When Mathias suddenly comes down with a mysterious illness, Chel and Tomlin seek out answers. As Mathias's familiar, Tomlin can sense that nothing is wrong with the magical parts of him, but when a trip to the doctor's indicates nothing is wrong with him physically either, they start to worry.

Then Mathias collapses, and the search to find the truth becomes urgent.

17,000 words; $1.99; Buy it at Less Than Three Press, Amazon, B&N, Kobo


If there are two types of people in the world, Alex Whitehall probably isn't one of them, despite being a person. Their favorite pastimes include reading, horseback riding, sleeping, watching geek-tastic television, knitting, eating, and running. And wasting time on the internet. And spending glorious evenings laughing with friends.

While Alex prefers sleeping over doing anything else (except maybe eating), sometimes they emerge from the cave to be social and to hunt for food at the local market. They can be found blogging, reading, and tending after their aloe plants.




Connect with Alex:

Twitter: @AlexWhitehall
Email: AlexDWhitehall@gmail.com
Website: www.alexwhitehall.com
Tumblr: alexwhitehall.tumblr.com




Comment with your email address below to be entered in the giveaway! The winner will be able to choose between an ebook copy of Hard Truths or an Audible download of Magic Runs Deep! Selection will be made Sunday, April 28 at 7pm. The winner will be contacted by Alex.

Be sure to check out the other stops on the tour for more chances to win:

MM Good Book Reviews - April 24
Two Chicks Obsessed - April 24
Love Bytes Reviews - April 25
That's What I'm Talking About - April 25
Book Reviews and More by Kathy - April 26
Bayou Book Junkie - April 27

Review: Crossing the Touchline (Auckland Med. #2) by Jay Hogan

What if you’ve worked your whole life for a dream, to play rugby for the most successful sports team on the planet, the New Zealand All Blacks?

What if that dream is so close you can smell it?

What if you meet someone?

What if you fall in love?

What if your dream will cost the man who’s stolen your heart?

And what if the dream changes?

Reuben Taylor has a choice to make.

Cameron Wano is that choice.



DNF

My grandmother has a saying when she's unsure about a new recipe: "it has good stuff in it"! ™

This book has good stuff in it including an athlete who's built like a brick shithouse and a femme and self-proclaimed sassy guyliner wearing love interest. Plus, they're really into each other which has its appeal. There's a slight age difference too!

That's size difference, age difference, femme guy, closeted athlete in a sports romance for the folks keeping track at home, all of which are my kryptonite. So this, by all rights, should've been a feast. But sometimes you can have the creme de la creme of ingredients and it still doesn't turn out like you want it to.

Unfortunately, Crossing the Touchline rapidly deflated like a soufflé for me.


I wanted to like it. Heck, I wanted to LOVE it.

But some things made that challenging and I know myself well enough to know that if I continue I'll nitpick this thing until it looks in the neighborhood of this:


No one needs that, ammiright?

However, I will list some of the things that bothered me in no particular order:

The internal dialogues of both Cam and Reuben, both of which I found grating.
The dearth of emotional maturity on both of their parts.
They sound, and even to a certain extent, think almost exactly the same.
The squirreling.
The info dumps.
Cam's "sassy" comes across as more dickish.
There was this pervasive sense that this story was trying too hard which made it feel clunky and stilted.

Perhaps things improve as the story evolves but, like I said, I've no wish to pick this thing apart on the off-chance it doesn't nor do I wish to negatively review a new author.

Obviously, my opinions are my own and YMMV.




An ARC was provided by the author in exchange for an honest review.





Release Blitz + Giveaway: SIO by C.A. Blocke


Author C.A. Blocke and IndiGo Marketing visit to promote the release of SIO! Learn more about the sci-fi tale and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: SIO
Author: C.A. Blocke
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: April 22, 2019
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 6360
Genre: Science Fiction, LGBT, humor, space pirates, scavengers, scientist, tech nerd, hurt-comfort, disabilities, abduction, captivity, tech nerd

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Synopsis

Set in a near-future environment, mega-corporations have taken over the most habitable of planets, creating domed utopias for their devoted employees. Everyone else has been shunted off to a multitude of mostly habitable planets and moons where they scrape by as farmers and tradesfolk, miners and merchants, bounty hunters and scavengers.

James Marks and his crew of scav trash operate their ship, SIO, on a mission to obtain a mysterious piece of new tech. It changes everything and leaves him stranded somewhere he doesn’t recognize with a cute, if not a bit annoying, tech scientist. James doesn’t know, when he first meets Michael, but his life is about to change in a very surprising way.

Excerpt

SIO
C.A. Blocke © 2019
All Rights Reserved

One: The Job
“You’re really going in alone?” Edge asked, leaning heavily against the console as James plugged in the coordinates. “I thought you promised Lyra you weren’t doing jobs alone anymore after that last big fuckup.”

James rolled his eyes and sighed. “What Lyra don’t know won’t hurt her. You and your sister are wanted on every planet in Corporate Space, and I’m not about to lose the only good pilot we’ve got by taking Corin along for the ride. Besides, I’m fluent in bullshit. I’ll be fine.”

Edge laughed and drew his oversized ElectroPistol before shoving it toward James’s chest. “You’re gonna need this. They set up scanners every few kilometers to catch travelers with old-school bullets.”

“You know I’ve got one.” James smirked, opening his dark-brown duster to show off his special design. “And mine’s overclocked.”

“Show-off.”

Edge and his sister, Razor, had been on the ship’s crew since day one, and far too many crew members had been lost one way or another since. To be fair, James knew Edge had a point. The duster was a bit of a showpiece, but even in Corporate Space, they could appreciate fine leatherwork.

Quietly, Razor added, “Careful where you’re scanning with that eye, boss. Peach detection is sensitive to all TechEyes.”

James blinked several times, self-conscious at the reminder of his less-than-human status. After fifteen years on the outer ring, he was starting to feel less man than machine. An eye, a leg, and a full neural interface later, who really could say he wasn’t? “Yes, mother.” James sighed, offering another fond roll of the eyes. “Believe me, I’m in and out. The last place I want to hang out is a Peach Corp research and development office.”

“Eye on the prize.” Edge nodded, clapping a meaty hand on James’s back. “Corin’ll leave the engines running for ya.”

Getting in wasn’t hard; a flash of the badge the client had provided and a few sideways glances at James’s generally unkempt appearance, and he was walking the halls toward the mark’s office. Thankfully, R&D didn’t have half the security protocol most Corporate offices had, and as far as they cared, the dark-haired man in a duster and pressed shirt was Mr. Marquis Benton, in the flesh. However, the short middle manager staring him down didn’t exactly seem convinced.

“So, Mr. Benton, is it?” he asked, stroking his fingers through professionally cropped blond hair before taking off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “And you are here for?”

“I was told the communique was sent days ago,” James bluffed, crossing his arms and giving the manager, Michael, a critical look. “The Rose prototype. It’s being called up for Corporate preview.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to have one less piece of useless technology to deal with, it’s not ready. I never received this…communique…you’re talking about.” Michael’s brow furrowed as he slipped his glasses back on; the frustration apparent on his face was adorable at the very least.

“Fine. Fine.” James leaned in, glancing over the man’s badge to grab a name, only to feel his TechEye activate to read it through the soft fold of his worn blazer. “It’s all right, Michael. I’ll deal with your supervisor.”

“I am the supervisor at this facility.” Michael frowned, shaking his head. “And if that crappy old TechEye wasn’t such a piece of outdated shit running firmware from ten years ago, you would have been able to pull up my personnel file and would know that.”

It wasn’t quite the same as being caught red-handed, and security wasn’t swarming the office yet, so there was that much hope. “Hey, you know how crappy the pay is for runners. I haven’t exactly been able to keep up on the latest and greatest.” James shrugged, and then stepped closer, ready to make a move, if justified. “Besides, I don’t like all that clutter in my HUD. All I need is to get this prototype to my boss.” It was a fair enough statement; the heads-up display on the older chip software was much less cluttered with information of various levels of situational importance. In the long run, it made it difficult to parse the large amount of information that wasn’t actually in front of his eyes but tended to render him at least distracted when it came up.

Michael stood, one hand on his black leather belt and the other casually planted against his desk. “The new heads-up display is actually quite streamlined by comparison, especially if you have the visual upgrade.” He shifted on his feet and, after a moment’s pause, dropped his gaze down to the litter of papers and scraps on his desk. “Look, okay… I don’t know who you are or how you got in here, but contrary to popular belief, just because I’m in R&D, I’m not a fucking idiot. The Rose is classified, and you’ve done absolutely nothing to make me believe you should even be here.”

James had been in worse situations, which really said quite a lot about his chosen profession. He put on his best smile and leaned across Michael’s desk, drawing eyes back up to him. “I’ll level with you, Michael. There was no communique, okay? I know I’m sort of jumping the gun here, but bringing back the Rose and blowing the bigwigs’ minds with it pretty much guarantees a promotion that…uh…well, I need. And I know you’ve got zero reason to believe a word I’m saying, but I can definitely put in a good word for the new head of R&D.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed behind his thin spectacles, and James felt his heart rate raise enough to hear the blood pounding in his ears. Lying was no big thing, but pulling shit in a Peach facility was a damn bold move for someone not looking to end up in a prison colony for the rest of their short, crappy life. Finally, Michael said, “Head of R&D? You have that kind of power? I thought you said you were a runner.”

“A runner for someone with more power than both of us combined. With the right offering, I could do quite a lot”—James whispered, licking his lower lip for dramatic effect, if not sheer nerves—“with a little help from a certain smart and handsome developer.”

A long moment passed, and James realized exactly how that statement had come off. Fortunately, Michael seemed to buy it, and James wasn’t really lying—for everything his bookish appearance gave off, Michael was handsome in a sort of cute tech-nerd kind of way. Michael sighed and shook his head, drawing back. “You’ve got a silver tongue, Marquis. And, I guess I’m just sick of looking at the stupid thing,” he muttered under his breath, heading toward the door James had come in. “I have to get it from the lab; they’re working on it today.”

“Of course, of course.” James feigned a laugh while following him back into the corridor and through the honeycomb of hallways and nondescript rooms toward the lab.

Michael scanned his card and then turned back to face him. “Wait here.”

There was a delicate dance—James couldn’t wait too long out in the open without being checked by security, who would likely figure out his papers were fake, within a few seconds, but he also had to offer Michael the benefit of the doubt, lest his true intention be made even clearer. He nodded and casually folded his arms over his chest, gently patting the pistol concealed within his coat. Beyond the door, he couldn’t see much more than several bodies in white suits with blank faces moving quietly around, and then he was alone in the corridor.

Ten minutes and one close call with security passed, and James couldn’t stop himself from attempting to listen at the door, to no avail. Daring the chance of getting caught, he fumbled out the jack in his coat pocket, connecting it to the keypad first and then directly to the port behind his left ear. Hacking was dangerous in the best possible circumstances. Getting caught was almost a certainty, but the cybernetic jack made it a little simpler to do something as innocuous as jimmying a lock—hell, James had practically grown up forcing locks with or without technological assistance. Unfortunately, Razor wasn’t wrong about Peach Corp being on top of outside tech in their systems. The lock gave, after only a few moments of forcing the code, the door opened, and the first thing James saw after pulling the jack free at both ends in one yank was security coming right for him.

“What are you doing in here?” Michael shouted as James rushed into the room, slamming the door behind him. A steel case was open on a large table, a small purple rose made of circuits and glass seated in a holding point fixed inside the case.

“Okay, so here’s the thing…” James stammered, letting the words come as his most useful form of self-preservation. “There are at least three guys with ElectroPistols on the other side of that door, and I really need to leave with this prototype, so if you could close that case, I’ll be heading out now.”

“It’s not ready!” Michael answered, lifting the safety goggles from around his glasses and tossing them on the floor with an angry sigh. “Do you even know anything about the Rose? You have got to be the most ignorant—”

James cut him off for lack of time more than anything, snapping the case closed. “I may have to use you as a human shield…no worries; ElectroPistols don’t hurt nearly as bad as the real thing.” He was well aware it sounded bad, but to the best of his knowledge, as long as the person being shot didn’t have too many cybernetic parts, the blasts weren’t usually deadly. James grabbed Michael’s elbow, thankful he was a little lighter and a good deal shorter than most.

They made it two steps to the door, and when James touched the latch, a loud popping noise was accompanied by a rush of heat, and everything went black.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

C.A. Blocke is a thirty-something writer who’s been captivated by the magic of how people relate to each other for as long as she can remember. Far more than overarching drawn-out plots, she prefers to focus heavily on relationships in various situations that feel like real life—even when at its most surreal. Real Life, she feels, is messy and complicated, and that shines through in her fiction where the road to a happy ending frequently isn’t just a straight line. A long-time reader and writer of fluffy character-driven pieces, her style tends to highlight small slices of life that come together to form a whole picture of the plot.

She is a gender nonconforming, demisexual-identified female who feels most comfortable writing unconventional relationships involving non-heterosexual couplings. Sexual identity often colors her works and features heavily in finding the comfortable place where identities can collide with minimal friction. She enjoys exploring different takes on ‘acceptable’ sexuality and blurring the lines between what is expected and what really happens.

A small-town Arizona native, the Southwest and its rural communities fascinate her—particularly the rigid-identity politics and the ramifications of breaking the social norm. Of course, that’s not to say that she doesn’t also enjoy writing about urban life and the various challenges present in the big city. While most at home writing contemporary romance with a warm little erotica twist, she’s very prone to following her muse down the dark alleys and open valleys it drags her through—making it nearly impossible to know just what genre will take her interest next.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: A Summer's Day: Shakespearean Anthology with a Twist by Various Authors


IndiGo Marketing hosts today's book blitz for A Summer's Day: Shakespearean Anthology with a Twist! Don't miss the 12 stories from authors Rory Ni Coileain, Louise Lyons, Asta Idonea, Nephy Heart, Charlie Cochrane, Dianne Hartsock, Rian Durant, Kathy Griffith, Phetra H. Novak, JL Merrow, Rebecca Cohen, and M. LeAnne Phoenix! Enter in the$10 Amazon gift card giveaway!

Title: A Summer's Day: Shakespearean Anthology with a Twist
Author: Various Authors
Publisher: Self - Published
Release Date: August 12, 2016
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 115 K (12 short stories)
Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Young Adult

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Synopsis

We’re celebrating Shakespeare's legacy with this collection of 12 stories based on his works and the way they are often woven into our lives. The twist is that all stories are MM. There are modern retellings of some plays, interpretations of others and one of the sonnets, and delightful referencing of anything Shakespeare.

There is gentle YA romance next to hot sexy stories and all kinds of relationships – first love, May/December, interracial, second chances, happy endings and even a tragic one.

We’re traveling from Ancient Rome through Renaissance England to modern day UK, Venice Beach and other places in USA, Vancouver and Havana.

There’s fun, drama, tears, angst, joy and, above all, lots of true love.

DEEPER THAN DID EVER PLUMMET SOUND
Rory Ni Coileain
Clarence Limont is a slowly fading star of the London stage; convinced his great performances are all behind him, he nevertheless agrees to play Prospero in an off-off-Broadway production of The Tempest helmed by an old friend.
Jaymes Stafford is the production’s starry-eyed Ariel, waking feelings Clarence had thought long dead and buried.
But the poisonous jealousy of other members of the cast may steal the stars from Jaymes’ eyes, and even put paid to Clarence’s illustrious career.
("The Tempest")

A FINE LINE BETWEEN
Louise Lyons
When Romeo runs into Julian on the beach, he's the last person he wants to see as he’s grown up hating him due to his parents' aversion to Julian's dad.
Forced to rescue Julian from the sea, Romeo is surprised by his grudging attraction to the other young man.
When simple lust becomes something more, the pair ignore their parents' anger, but family fights drive the lovers away from home - into a horrifying incident. Will it make the Montgomerys and the Caplins rethink their feud?
("Romeo and Juliet")

THE DEVIL AND THE LION
Asta Idonea
Caius Martius and Tullus Aufidius have long been enemies.
Then Martius arrives on Aufidius' doorstep, seeking a military alliance. Aufidius accepts; however, he wishes their partnership to extend from the battlefield to the bedchamber.
His lust for Martius is one of the reasons he spares his life, but his jealousy will soon have terrible consequences.
("Coriolanus")

KISS ME, KADE
Nephy Heart
Kade is in trouble, negotiating a dangerous path between an authoritarian father and wayward sister.
Then Pete storms into his life and tries to take over.
It can only end in disaster.
("Taming of The Shrew")

IF MUSIC BE...
Charlie Cochrane
Rick Cowley finds himself taking up am-dram once more, thinking it’ll help him get over the death of his partner.
He’d never anticipated it would mean an encounter with an old flame and the sort of emotional complications the Bard would have reveled in.
Still, old Will had the right word for every situation, didn’t he?
("Twelfth Night")

TWO GUYS FROM VANCOUVER
Dianne Hartsock
Valentine has been watching Preston date man after man with never more than a brotherly hug for him.
Finally, despairing that Preston will ever love him in return, Val moves away to college, where he meets the glorious Silver, a man with problems of his own, who just might be his answer.
Torn between his attraction to Preston and his growing desire for Silver, Val wonders if he’ll ever find love or will his life become as tragic as any of the Shakespearean plays he loves so well.
("The Two Gentlemen of Verona")

WHEN I LOVE THEE NOT
Rian Durant
Desmond, the heir of a business owner is outed in the media after a hot night with his lover, Olvin, who also happens to be the company’s best negotiation expert.
This is only the first step in Ian’s plan to get back at Olvin for choosing Michel Caswell as a main assistant for the latest merger instead of him, a plan in which he’s moving everybody around like pawns on a chessboard, bending the rules.
Will Ian drive a wedge between Desmond and Olvin and get the position he wants or will he realize that there’s something more important that stops the world from turning into chaos?
("Othello")

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE BEACH
Kathy Griffith
Tony and Bartholomew have been friends for years, but his latest request is a little much.
Bart needs a loan to impress Porsche Keller, a personable billionaire, but the only cash available is from banker and raging homophobe Sherlock Palmer, who has a devious plan for them.
Will our heroes find love and get their happy ending?
("The Merchant of Venice")

A HERO'S LAST BATTLE
Phetra H Novak
Claudio is happy to be home after serving his country as a soldier for over fifteen years being stationed mostly abroad ready to settle down.
Hero is still living at home, together with his father, trying to do what is expected a young man his age is supposed to do, work and live every day like it is your last.
The two men meet at a family wedding, realizing they share a mutual dream of finding love and starting a family but evil lurks amongst them. Will these two lovers find a way to be together?
("Much Ado About Nothing")

NOTHING LIKE THE SUN
JL Merrow
Hollywood darling Jerome Winter always defined himself by his looks—until a fire destroyed them.
His oldest friend and still-loyal manager, Sam, has long carried a torch for him, but with his looks—and earning power—gone, what does Jerome have left to offer?
(Sonnet 130)

THE SUN OF TOMORROW
M. LeAnne Phoenix
When actor Koray Shepherd rescues writer Winter Sirois from the brutal hands of his supervisor, Winter never would have believed the beautiful Turk would share his love of The Bard.
When Koray asks Winter out on a date, Winter takes center stage in his very own tragedy, determined to end his play for today with a happily ever after.
Screwing his courage to the sticking place, Winter sets his sights on the future and Koray... but when the horrors of yesterday resurface, will he crest the waves of fear and despair, or will he be heard no more?
("Macbeth")

MUCH ADO ABOUT LADY MACBETH
Rebecca Cohen
Competition for roles is always high when the King's Men put on a play, but David seems to come up against Jacob time and time again, no matter what part he is auditioning for.
But now they both want to be Lady Macbeth and it’s more than simple rivalry that causes the sparks to fly.
(Shakespeare's Theatre)

And as all the world’s a stage we do hope that one day very soon all the world will be a place for everybody to love whomever they want to love and feel safe.

All proceeds of this collection go to the It Gets Better Project. By reading this book you become part of the hope for a better future of the LGBT youth.

Purchase at Amazon

Excerpts

A Fine Line Between by Louise Lyons

“I’m sorry.” I never thought I’d say such a thing to him, but as I listened to him, I wondered why we’d despised each other so much on the strength of something our parents did. We’d been little kids, just starting school, conditioned to loathe each other because of our families’ hatred.

“Not your fault, is it?” Julian’s voice shook and he moved away, initially heading toward Laura and Steve, but then changing direction.

“Hey!” I hurried after him. I caught up to him and gestured to mine and Steve’s towels. “I meant I’m sorry for being a dick. You’re right. It was never anything to do with us. I suppose listening to my dad go on about it made me feel the same. I don’t know why my parents even stayed together. They’re sort of friends, but that’s all. I think Mum just likes the security of Dad’s money. I know for a fact they’ve seen other people on and off. They don’t even try to hide it from me. Sit down.”

“Just like that? Suddenly you want to be friends?” His expression was wary.

“Hardly.” My lips twitched. “But since I saved your life, I suppose I can’t hate you that much.”

“Saved my life, bollocks. I’d have been all right.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” I grinned and sat down, surprised by my sudden change in attitude. Glancing at him, I noticed for the first time how attractive he was with his reddish-blond hair and bright blue eyes. Tanned skin glistened with droplets of water and a light dusting of golden hair spread across his chest. I hadn’t seen him since high school and he’d been skinny, pimply, and ginger then.

When I Love Thee Not by Rian Durant

“Hey, was that Michael talking to Des in the garden?”

Ian had managed to take Olvin right on time to a spot where he could see the two talking, but it seemed Michael had seen them as well and promptly took his leave. Which, of course, made him look even more guilty.

“Yes, I think it was but why would he steal away like that?

“Hm!”

The sound made the Cuban turn around and stare at him.

“What was that about?”

He paused dramatically, and gazed again at Desmond who had taken his book and looked as innocent as new fallen snow.

“Tell me, did Michael know you had an affair with Des before the… you know, before everybody found out?”

Clearly, the man didn’t like being reminded of this and winced before replying.

“Yes, he knew. I even asked Michael to give him a present and chocolates from me once or twice as he lives closer to their house and could see him more often while we were hiding.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Why?”

He looked at the Cuban who seemed utterly confused. He’d never seen him like this with the meanest experts in negotiations, with those who were capable of convincing you to sell yourself by the small print in their contracts and make you tie a ribbon around your head for their pleasure. He was swift and efficient in curbing their desires to trick him, but now he was lost.

“Why, think for a minute.”

Two Guys from Vancouver by Dianne Hartsock

VAL TOOK A long drink from the thermos, enjoying the cool bite of lemon and vodka on his tongue, the alcohol content exactly enough to send a pleasant tingle along limbs already lethargic from hours in the sun and sea air.

“Hey, share.”

“Sure.” Val handed over the bottle, his gaze lingering on his best friend, his heart rushing. Preston’s skin was bronzed from months in the summer sun, his board shorts hugging muscular thighs and the large cock Val knew lay hidden under the bright fabric. He wanted to lick a path down Preston’s glistening chest, knowing he’d taste of sweat and sea salt.

Preston swallowed a mouthful of the Lemon Drop and sputtered, laughing as he licked the stray drops from his lips. “Shit! That stuff’s potent.”

A shiver ran through Val. If he moved only a few inches he could be kissing the mouth that had been driving him wild all summer. And by the gleam in Preston’s brown eyes, he wouldn’t object, either. A shout on the still air shattered Val’s dream and he pulled away, scowling at the bottle Preston handed back to him. Julian approached them up the beach; Preston’s latest boyfriend, lithesome, lightly tanned, with gorgeous blond hair cascading to his shoulders.

Val hated him. Problem was, Julian was great, always laughing, genuinely kind. If it wasn’t for the fact he was fucking Preston, they would most likely be good friends. Julian plopped down beside Preston and Val sighed. Probably for the best he was moving from Vancouver to Portland in the morning. The two cities were only nine miles apart, but it would take him out of Preston’s orbit.

Much Ado About Lady Macbeth by Rebecca Cohen

SURELY DAVID WAS not the only one who could see Jacob’s complete lack of talent. Jacob might be pretty enough to pass as Juliet, in the right light and squinting, but the minute the petulant popinjay opened his mouth his ineptitude had to be clear to all. How Jacob had ever become a player in the King’s Men was beyond David’s comprehension. He seethed quietly to himself as he watched Jacob prance from one side of the stage to the other, supposedly a sprightly fairy but looking more like he was suffering from ague. David clicked his tongue in annoyance as Jacob fumbled his words.

A soft sigh to his right made him turn to see his friend Gwilliam shake his head. “What?” David demanded.

“You grind your teeth so loudly I thought it was a carpenter at work. Yet, the reason for it is so absurd you cannot see the ridiculousness from where you are, deep in your cave of wilful denial.”

“Denial? What gibberish knots your tongue?”

Gwilliam tutted and returned to reading the pamphlet he was holding. “Your animosity for Jacob is no more real than the fairy he is currently playing.”

David spluttered, almost swallowing his tongue at the implication of Gwilliam’s words. A “shush” from the stage prevented him from answering and he sank lower in his seat, his gaze fixed on the annoying Jacob and his annoyingly perfect bottom. David couldn’t grumble about the importance of his role, but thought he should be playing Titania, not the dull-witted Helena. A pining maiden was no match for the queen of the fairies.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Fruits of the Gods by William C. Tracy


Celebrate the release of Fruits of the Gods with author William C. Tracy and IndiGo Marketing! Learn more about the fantasy and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!


Title: Fruits of the Gods
Author: William C. Tracy
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: April 22, 2019
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: No Romance
Length: 110200
Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, Fantasy, other-world, family-drama, magic users, elements, slave, lesbian, trans, sisters, ghosts, spirits

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Synopsis

Sisters Kisare and Belili uproot an ancient box in their owner’s orchard and find a miracle inside: a fifth godfruit in a society that knows only four. It is punishable by death for non-nobles to eat godfruit, so the sisters hide the discovery and plot to escape servitude for good. With the power represented in the box, they could live as nobles themselves.

But Kisare finds her new freedom more difficult than she imagined, and Belili has many secrets she strives to keep hidden. With the help of a people slowly losing their culture and technology to the powerful nobles, the sisters lead an infiltration of the highest levels of noble society.

While Kisare finds she cares for the captured leader of the people helping them, Belili comes to love her noble suitor’s guard—a fierce woman with a similar past to her own. In the end, the fifth godfruit may bring harmony to the world, but the sisters’ only hope of succeeding lies in deciphering ancient mythologies surrounding the gods’ original plan for their people.

Excerpt

Fruits of the Gods
William C. Tracy © 2019
All Rights Reserved

The gods made mortals as their servants but freed them when they became troublesome to keep. When, against all odds, the mortals prospered on their own, the gods thought to bribe them with gifts to gain their worship.

It was the mistress’s third miscarriage. Kisare knelt beside Bel, both sisters digging the hole to accept the little bundle. The solitary malus tree above them would take the grim fertilizer for its magical harvest.

She could feel the master’s eyes on her back, and Shuma’s, the guard captain. The mistress in her litter, two guards, and three slaves holding torches filled out their party. The flickering glow guttered over the little hole.

The ground resisted Kisare’s chipped spade, and her breath misted as she dug. Moonlight shone on her and Bel through new leaves of the malus tree, standing alone between rows of grapevines. She brushed back long hair, bleached somewhere between silver and white, taking only a second to eye the bundle at the mistress’s feet. The noble blood the child would add to the malus’s harvest did nothing to offset Aricaba-Ata’s frustration. The master doted on his new young wife.

Bel’s spade landed with a hollow thunk. Curious, Kisare dug next to her sister. Something was buried here. She could see no detail in the dark but knew better than to alert their master. It might be valuable. Kisare saw Bel’s eyes locked on the dark corner of the grave. Her spade stabbed underneath, prying the thing up.

Kisare knocked her sister’s arm away, then dug at the opposite end of the hole. Bel took the hint and, frowning, plunged her spade in with too much force. It bounced off a rock, throwing dirt in Kisare’s face. She spit out grit tasting of iron and fertilizer.

Aricaba-Ata, next to his grieving wife, pointed one finger. Torchlight highlighted the parted lock of red in his white-blond hair. Shuma stepped forward at the gesture. The freeman guard captain was a natural blond, no streaks of magical color in his tight curls. Nor was his hair bleached, as Kisare’s and Bel’s was.

“What was that sound? What did you hit?” Shuma towered above them, the biggest man Kisare had ever seen, rumored to be the disowned son of a neighboring noble.

“It was nothing,” Kisare answered, thinking furiously.

“It was something, blond,” he answered, unlimbering the whip at his side.

Kisare’s back tensed, her shirt scratching against the raised scars. She had to answer. Mortal hands had buried something here. What could she get from offering up the prize? Not as much as keeping the knowledge from the master.

Bel was watching her face, spade poised. “It was a wood—”

“Root,” Kisare finished for her. She pointed at her last mistake, rather than the treasure. It would give meaning to her hesitation.

“See,” she said. “I nicked a root.” It was visible as a glistening wet spot in the moonlight.

The master came forward and peered into the small hole. It wouldn’t harm the tree in the long run, but it was still a slave’s error.

Kisare kept the scream in as the whip drew a line of fire across her back.

“Keep digging,” Aricaba-Ata said. “Do not injure my tree further. It is worth far more than your life, blond. I do not need added trouble.” He stepped back to his wife in her litter, his face blending into shadow.

Kisare put her head down and dug, her back burning. Cold air washed down her spine through a rent in her thin shirt, stark against the hot wetness. Bel followed, digging deliberately. Kisare shifted to a more comfortable position, hoping to keep her shirt from touching the bleeding wound. She didn’t wish her sister to feel the whip but wondered if Aricaba-Ata would have punished Bel the same way. Her sister’s gift for pruning godfruit trees excused her from all but the worst transgressions. Almost all. Kisare glanced down to Bel’s incomplete left hand, resting by the grave.

They finished the hole well enough to please the master, keeping away from where the object was buried. They placed the small bundle by the guard’s torchlight and filled in the dirt. Kisare took a moment to breathe—not long enough to bring Shuma’s whip down, but enough to pull a ragged shawl around her shoulders. She sucked in a breath as it brushed her wounded back. Bel could look at it later. Kisare shivered into the shawl, sweat from digging chilling her. The malus tree was past harvest, and the season was on the cusp of spring. It was the in-between time when even citrons were scarce, and everyone scrimped on godfruit.

Bel helped her to her feet, and Kisare and her sister placed the name-rail in the fence around the tree, under the master’s watchful eye. There were five other name-rails already inscribed, two from the previous miscarriages, and one from Aricaba-Ata’s first wife, Tiamai. The fever had taken her three years ago. Stumps of long-dead malus trees stood nearby, breaking rows of leafless grapevines with their own rotting name-rails. The grapes—normal fruit—were sold to market or made into wine.

“Girl,” Aricaba-Ata directed her, “clean the birthing room before you sleep.” He put an arm around his trembling wife in her litter and kissed her forehead. “Take her back,” he directed the three slaves holding the litter. The other guard left with them, leaving a torch with Shuma.

Aricaba-Ata came forward, taking a slightly wrinkled malus slice from his tunic. Kisare watched, slowly cleaning the dirt from her and Bel’s spades, making time. Aricaba-Ata pushed one red lock—magic gifted from the four gods of the seasons—behind his ear, as he popped the malus in his mouth. Kisare saw the shudder that took his body as he bit down, traces of lightning coursing down his arms, illuminating the darkness. She drank in the display.

Aricaba-Ata stepped close to the new-cut naming rail and lifted his right forefinger. Orange light bloomed in the night; a single pillar of flame. He drew a line of fire across the rail, charring in the name given his stillborn son: Aricaba-Tir. By the time he finished marking the rail, Kisare could see his jaw moving in the few last flickers of lightning as he tried to draw the last bit of juice from the godfruit’s flesh. This far up in the mountains, away from the capital city of Karduniash, and near the ring of devastation the nobles called the Blasted Lands, her master would waste none of the magical juice.

Kisare spun at her sister’s cough, but not fast enough. She had forgotten to clean the spade while watching.

Aricaba-Ata’s backhanded swipe caught her across the face and she fell to the ground, her head bouncing. “Be on your way, girl,” he huffed.

Kisare put a finger to her split lip and made the mistake of raising her eyes. This time the blow laid her flat out, darkening her vision.

She scrambled to her knees, slightly dizzy, but kept her gaze down. She probed a loose tooth with her tongue. What had he said? His blow had knocked the sense from her.

“I’ll—I’ll clean the birthing room now, by your leave, master.” Bel’s hand gripped her sleeve, supporting. Aricaba-Ata’s cold eyes were still on her, she knew.

“You can take Tashi’s place filling the latrines tomorrow before your other duties, to remind you not to get ideas above your place.”

She bolted, Bel close behind. The blood in her mouth and on her back were worth the secret buried under the malus tree.

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Meet the Author

William C. Tracy is a North Carolina native and a lifelong fan of science fiction and fantasy. He has a master’s in mechanical engineering, and has both designed and operated heavy construction machinery. He has also trained in Wado-Ryu karate since 2003, and runs his own dojo. He is an avid video and board gamer, a reader, and of course, a writer. In his spare time, he wrangles three cats. He and his wife enjoy putting their pets in cute little costumes and making them cosplay for the annual Christmas card.

He is the author of the Dissolutionverse, about a series of homeworlds connected by music-based magic instead of space flight.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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Audiobook Review: Handle with Care by Cari Z.

A fragile heart needs extra care.

Burned-out social worker Aaron McCoy is on vacation for the first time in years—boss’s orders. Road-tripping to his brother’s wedding with his best friend, Tyler, seems a fun way to spend the mandatory two-week leave, and they set out for Kansas—and a difficult homecoming.

Aaron’s mother was a drug addict, and his adorable younger brother was quickly adopted, while Aaron spent his childhood in foster care. As Aaron mends fences, Tyler hopes to show him that this time, he won’t be left behind to face his problems alone.

Aaron’s opening up to how right it feels to be with Tyler and to the possibility of taking the leap from friends to lovers. But along with the wedding celebration comes a painful reminder of the past. Aaron’s heart is still breakable. Can he put it in Tyler’s hands?

Narrator: John Solo
Listening Length:  5 hours 38 minutes


Reviewer: Shee Reader


Aaron gives his all for the kids in his caseload, to the exclusion of all else, even self care. Aaron is hanging by a thread when his boss sets him on enforced leave. Tyler is his best friend and a member of the last foster family Aaron was placed with so there could have been a weird brother vibe too. I did feel the author skimmed over this thread, and could have done more to illustrate that the age gap meant there was very little ‘brother’ identity in the relationship.

Tyler is Aaron’s safe place, so he’s avoided facing his feelings for Aaron. I do love a good friends-to-lovers trope and this one was beautifully done.

Aaron doesn’t trust easily and Tyler is so respectful of that, without letting Aaron get so wound up in his head that he can’t see that Tyler is moving even closer.

I was delighted when they guys got to the place they were staying for the wedding and did the old “oh oh, there’s only one bed, whatever shall we do??” That made me laugh!

The awful Batchelor party was a classic as was the black eye on the photos and an outraged bride!

The story was a nice slow burn with a beautiful HEA epilogue and the narration was perfect throughout. I loved how John gave Tyler’s drawl and extra flex when he was trying to seduce Aaron!

Recommended!