Blog Tour + Giveaway: Zale (Brotherhood of Ormarr #2) by Michelle Frost

The second book of the four part Brotherhood of Ormarr series is officially out, Zale! Learn more from today's visit by author Michelle Frost and Other Worlds Ink! Don't miss your chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card in today's giveaway!

Michelle Frost has a new MM paranormal dragon rider book out, book two of the four-part Brotherhood of Ormarr series: Zale.

Davis~
It was just another job—at least it was supposed to be—but snaring the feisty blue dragon I’d been contracted to collect and her rider in my trap changed everything. Hunting dragons was my job, and I was damn good at it. I’d never missed a target. Never failed to make a delivery. So why was every step toward turning over my bounty suddenly a struggle? No quarry had ever managed to get under my skin, but something in Zale’s haunting blue eyes called to me like nothing ever had before.

Zale~
When Itsaso and I were kidnapped, we fought like hell but found ourselves at the dragon hunter’s mercy. He locked my dragon away, leaving me to face captivity alone. Now, all I have to rely on is the training that’s been drilled into me every day for as long as I can remember and biding my time, waiting for Davis to make a mistake. Or my brother’s to find and rescue us. But something happened the first time I truly looked in Davis’s eyes, dark pools as deep and enchanting as the sea, and I realized I was in so much more danger than I thought. How could a ruthless dragon hunter be my perfect mate?

About the Series:



Being a dragon rider for the Brotherhood of Ormarr is filled with adventure, but danger can lurk behind every corner with the Order of Amsel set out to destroy the riders. Azaran, Zale, Eeli, and Malachite have spent their whole lives training, but will it be enough?

The brothers lost their parents years ago to assassins, but they’ve never been able to figure out who was behind the attack. Follow the journey of these dragon riders, along with their faithful dragons, as they find their mates and discover clues that will lead to the final epic showdown.

The Brotherhood of Ormarr series consists of four books, each with its own HEA. While each book focuses on a different couple, the overall story arc continues into the next installment. For maximum enjoyment, we suggest reading in order. This is a m/m romance series, and is recommended for adults 18 years and older.

Get It On Amazon

Book One - Azaran, by Jacki James

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Giveaway

Michelle is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour – for a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4766/?

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Excerpt

I moved down the beach, keeping my breathing even and my pace slow. Just as I reached the edge of the shadows I’d been lurking in, a joyful chuckle burst from Zale. The sound planted like a fist in my chest, gripping at my heart, and making my steps falter. What the fuck. From this vantage, I could only see his profile as he looked down at his dragon, love written into every line of his face. Emotions long since buried stirred inside me and a jealousy unlike anything I’d ever known soured my stomach. I missed that, that simple existence between two beings, that companionship, but even more confusing was that it wasn’t as if I wanted to push Zale out of the way and claim the dragon for myself... no, I wanted to sink down on the other side of him and wrap my arm around his shoulders. I wanted to be part of the bond they obviously already shared, and that didn’t make any fucking sense at all.

“D? You alright, man?” Nathair’s quiet voice in my earpiece ripped me out of my strange thoughts and back to the task at hand. I had a job to do and that was all that mattered.

With a deep breath, I kept walking, being sure to make enough noise to alert them they were no longer alone. I’d thought for a moment earlier that the dragon had sensed me with the way it seemed to stare into the darkness that was my shroud, directly at the place I’d been hiding, but it had gone back to lounging without so much of a flick of its tail. After just a moment, what I’d been waiting for happened as the air around the small beast shimmered until there was nothing but divots in the sand where it had previously been, and Zale climbed to his feet.

Stepping out of the shadows, I watched his eyes widen as he took me in. I wasn’t a small man—over six feet of hard fought muscle and scars. He turned fully toward me, the moon’s light revealing his face, and it was my own gasp that surprised me.

He was beautiful.

With his blond hair pulled back in a messy bun, all the soft angles of his face and the long lines of his neck were exposed. Creamy skin covered a lean, compactly muscled body, and I was having trouble pulling my eyes back up from the graceful arch of his bare feet in the sand.

“Are you lost?” he asked. His tone was friendly, but the suspicion was there.

“No,” I said with a shake of my head, more to get my thoughts back in order than anything else. “I heard there were some great tide pools on this beach.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I was reminded of my true purpose there, and the conviction of it rose in my breast. Reports said the man Zale had taken had come to town to look at the pools. Kidnapped and killed by this very man and the dragon resting in the breathtaking tattoo swirling around his left forearm as he’d attempted to shield a young boy. It was their justice I’d come to see done.

The chilling images of the fight that had led to two deaths flashed in my mind. Zale astride his blue beast of a dragon, leading a troop of dark wraiths, and then sending blue fire to end the life of an innocent man and the boy he’d been trying to protect. The whole nasty scene had been caught in our intelligence net from one of the satellites we regularly hacked into. With so few resources and the Brotherhood making moves all over the world, we were duty bound to do what we could, and I was there to bring Zale back to my Clan to face judgement, relieve him of the dragon he obviously didn’t deserve, and attempt to learn the identity of the person within the Brotherhood controlling the wraiths.

“Oh, well, I hope you enjoy them, then.” He walked toward the cliff, giving me a wide berth.

“Thanks.” I waited until he passed me, then spun, shooting across the sand to tackle him to the ground. His chest hit the sand with a thump, but he didn’t waste a second in trying to throw me off. Brute force wasn’t on his side, and I had it in spades, but as he shifted his hips, and slithered out of my grip, I knew exactly what Nathair had meant by wily. He threw an elbow, catching me in the cheek. My head snapped to the side and the taste of blood exploded in my mouth. I came up on my knees, letting him flip himself over only to grab his left arm and roll, shoulder first, until I was on my back perpendicular to him with his arm caught between my legs in an arm bar. I pressed on his throat with my calf, holding him down and cutting off his air as he struggled to break my hold. In a swift move, I lifted my leg off his throat and brought it down hard on his face. He grunted with the impact and I heard a crunch. He stilled for just a moment, stunned, but it was all I needed. I grabbed the sleeve out of my pocket and worked it over his hand. That was all it took and the magic worked into the woven material took over. It slithered up his arm, covering the dragon tattoo completely and binding itself to his skin, severing the connection to his dragon and keeping it trapped in its tattoo form.

As soon as Zale realized what I was doing, he thrashed wildly. “What did you do?” he screamed at me, wrenching himself from my hold and clamoring to his feet. I jumped to my feet as well, slinging sand and landing in a fighting stance. Bright red streaks ran down his mouth and chin from where I’d most likely broken his nose, but it was forgotten in his panic. “Saso!” He tore at the sleeve, trying without success to remove the material. Glittering, furious eyes lifted to me, and he charged. I pulled the taser gun from my back and fired, burying the prongs in his heaving chest and dropping him spasming to the sand.

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Author Bio

Stories have always been Michelle Frost's escape. Even as a kid, she can remember writing stories featuring her favorite cartoon characters. Now, her characters are a little more grown up, as are the stories she likes to tell. A self-proclaimed coffee addict and a bit of an introvert, she can most likely be found at any given time, on any given day with her hands on a keyboard or her nose in a book.

Author Website: https://www.michellefrostwrites.com/

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

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17778116.Michelle_Frost

Author Amazon: http://author.to/MichelleFrost

Release Blitz + Giveaway: His Steady Heart by Nell Iris

His Steady Heart is out from JMS Books! Celebrate with author Nell Iris and Signal Boost Promotions! Enter in the backlist eBook giveaway! (Two winners)

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | JMS Books | Universal Link

Length: 25,600 words approx.

Publisher: JMS Books

Blurb

Ashley “Buck” Buchanan moved back home to take care of his sick mother when he was 22. That was the first time he met Pippin, the neglected 6-year-old boy next door. Fifteen years later, Buck, a caretaker by nature, offers up his couch for Pippin, who needs a break from his mom and a quiet place to sleep.


Pippin Olander is a ray of sunshine despite his emotionally lacking upbringing and works hard to make a better life for himself. Even though he’s fiercely self-sufficient, he learns to accept help from Buck, his rock and the only steady presence in his life.


Their friendship deepens and grows into something more as they spend time together. But when other people try to throw a wrench in the works, when Pippin’s independence is triggered, can Buck and Pippin trust in the love they’ve found?

Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bona fide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies’ room), loves music (and singing along but, let’s face it, she’s no Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (“Make it so”). She loves words, poetry, wine, and Sudoku, and absolutely adores elephants!


Nell believes passionately in equality for all regardless of race, gender, or sexuality, and wants to make the world a better, less hateful, place.


Nell is a forty-something bisexual Swedish woman, married to the love of her life, and a proud mama of a grown daughter. She left the Scandinavian cold and darkness for warmer and sunnier Malaysia a few years ago, and now spends her days writing, surfing the Internet, enjoying the heat, and eating good food. One day she decided to chase her lifelong dream of being a writer, sat down in front of her laptop, and wrote a story about two men falling in love.


Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angst, and wants to write diverse and different characters.


Email contact@nelliris.com

Web www.nelliris.com

Twitter @nellirisauthor

Facebook page www.facebook.com/nellirisauthor

Facebook profile www.facebook.com/nell.iris.12

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/nelliris

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/nell_iris/

QueeRomance Ink https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/nell-iris/

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Let Me Show You by Becca Seymour

Author Becca Seymour and Other Worlds Ink visit on the Let Me Show You blog tour today! Learn about the contemporary romance and enter in the giveaway! Two people can win a $10 Amazon gift card! Good luck!

Becca Seymour has a new MM contemporary romance out: "Let Me Show You."

When a veterinarian and a construction worker connect, it takes mishaps, mistakes, and a Rhodesian Ridgeback named Rex to show them they’re made for each other.

Dr. Carter Falon is content living a quiet life in a small town caring for his animal patients. That doesn't mean he's not looking for a distraction. After finding himself precariously wedged… naked and at the mercy of a drop-dead gorgeous construction worker, Carter hires his savior to renovate his home.

When Tanner Grady’s best friend and new niece needed him, he uprooted and relocated without a second thought. His life has since been centered on work and spending time with his family, but when he comes to the rescue of a cute vet, Tanner finds he's a lot more interested in the homeowner than the house he’s renovating.


Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks | Google Play | Goodreads | QueeRomance Ink

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Giveaway

Becca is giving away two $10 Amazon gift cards with this tour – enter via Raffleopter for a chance to win.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4763/?

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Excerpt

Looking at the caller ID, I greeted, “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, baby boy.” I smiled. In my late twenties, I was far from a baby, but she’d once told me that even at fifty I’d still be her baby. “Good day?”

“Yep. Not too bad. Nothing too hectic or crazy. You?”

“A great one. Your dad’s booked a cruise for our anniversary.” Excitement lit her words. She’d been hinting at Dad for a while about a cruise. I was pleased he’d listened. It didn’t take a lot to make my mom happy; she found joy in the smallest of things,so that he’d organized it all was pretty impressive. Mom usually organized everything, so I knew him booking the vacation for them was a big deal.

“That’s terrific. Caribbean?”

She actually squealed down the line. I pulled the phone from my ear and laughed loudly. “Yes! Carter, I’m so excited.”

“Really? I’d never have guessed.”

“Oh, hush.” She spoke over me as I laughed again. “Don’t sass your mother.”

My laughter continued. “Never, Mom. You’d tan my hide. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I should think not. So anything new? Any dates?”

With a groan, I rubbed my face and then stepped further into the kitchen and pulled out a glass. “Mom…,” I sighed.

“What? I worry about you. You’re so far from home and are there all alone.”

I poured myself a glass of wine and took a sip. “I know you worry, but honestly, life’s good.” Admittedly it would have been nice to hook up, but one, I didn’t do casual and never had, and two, there was no way I’d tell my mom I was afraid my penis would drop off from lack of use. “There’s nothing new either, and that’s okay. I’m likingthe quiet life.”

“Hmm….” That was her tell for not being convinced. “You know, I was talking to Julie last week, and her nephew’s gay.”

“Mom,” I said with laughter, “honestly, no hookups. I do not need my mom fixing me up.”

She ignored me. “Well, he lives quite far away, but maybe a week of casual—” She cleared her throat. “—sex would do you good.”

“Jesus, Mom.” I spluttered on my mouthful of wine. Grabbing a towel, I wiped my face, catching the dribble of red wine on my chin, and wiped the countertop I’d sprayed. “Stop. I don’t need you arranging anything, okay? Please tell me you’re listening.” She was quiet. “Mom,” I said louder.

“Yes, yes, I hear you.” She sighed. “Grandbabies would be nice.”

Holy crap on toast! With wide eyes, I looked at the ceiling and counted to five. I then took a big gulp of wine before saying, “Mom.”

“Yes, baby boy?”

“I have to go. I need to grab a shower. I’m expecting someone.”

“Ooh—”

“Someone to fix the house up.” I’d heard the interest in her tone, the hope in that one syllable.

“Oh.” This time her voice dropped. I hated to kill her enthusiasm, but geez, I really needed to get off the phone.

“Love you, tell Dad I love him too. And I’ll speak to you guys later. Bye, Mom.”

“Will do.” Her tone was a bit brighter. “Love you too. Bye, honey.”

I disconnected quickly and placed my phone down. My mom, yeah, she was wonderful and drove me to absolute distraction. I knew how lucky I was. Every decision I’d ever made, my parents had always had my back. They supported me unconditionally. It was just that my mom could be a little extreme at times. I laughed into the empty room. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Quickly finishing my wine, I looked at the time. I had just fifteen minutes until the contractor was due. I’d left it late to organize myself, still a little in a tizzafter the conversation with my mom and the mention of babies. I glanced around the room at the disorderly mess. Every time I did so, I regretted it.

I detested chaos,and that was what the house felt like. The place was still strewn with my moving boxes, but I had yet to see the point in unpacking. Not necessarily because I planned to move, but rather, the whole house needed a lot of work, so I knew I’d have to pack my things up for any work on the house to start.

I really hoped this Tanner guy would be the person who could finally help me out. I’d had two other quotes, one local and one from out of town. Both were crazy high,and neither would be able to start for another five months or so. I was running out of options. This guy had come recommended to me by one of my clients, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

I sighed in defeat as I looked around. I’d have to continue ignoring it all until I finally had the place fixed up. I headed upstairs, careful to miss the coupleof steps that had loose boards, and headed to the main bathroom. I had an en suite, but the shower didn’t work, so it was the pearlescent green suite I headed toward. The sickly porcelain made me shudder every time I laid eyes on it. It was clean though, so there was that.

I hopped into the shower, latheredmyself up, and quickly rinsed off. That was when I heard the knock at the door. “Shoot.” I quickly turned off the taps, stepped out and grabbed a towel. In my haste to get myself together and then answer the door, the dodgy floorboard didn’t even register until my foot slammed throughit, snagging my ankle and bringing me to my knees.

I yelled as I fell, and cursed. Wincing, I looked at my predicament, trying to yank my foot out as I did so. A loud groan slipped past my lips. This was no good. I was wedged, and it appeared I’d lost my towel in my fall. Just great.

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Author Bio



Becca Seymour lives and breathes all things book related. Usually with at least three books being read and two WiPs being written at the same time, life is merrily hectic. She tends to do nothing by halves so happily seeks the craziness and busyness life offers.

Living on her small property in Queensland with her human family as well as her animal family of cows, chooks, and dogs, Becca appreciates the beauty of the world around her and is a believer that love truly is love.

Author Website: https://beccaseymour.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100015881354862

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

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

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18745264.Becca_Seymour

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/21905/

Blog Tour + Giveaway: A Fall in Autumn by Michael G. Williams

Author Michael G. Williams and Other Worlds Ink host A Fall in Autumn blog tour today! Learn more about the new queer sci-fi and enter in the Perishables (The Withrow Chronicles #1) eBook giveaway!

Michael G. Williams has a new queer sci fi book out: A Fall in Autumn.

WELCOME TO THE LAST OF THE GREAT FLYING CITIES

It’s 9172, YE (Year of the Empire), and the future has forgotten its past.

Soaring miles over the Earth, Autumn, the sole surviving flying city, is filled to the brim with the manifold forms of humankind: from Human Plus “floor models” to the oppressed and disfranchised underclasses doing their dirty work and every imaginable variation between.

Valerius Bakhoum is a washed-up private eye and street hustler scraping by in Autumn. Late on his rent, fetishized and reviled for his imperfect genetics, stuck in the quicksand of his own heritage, Valerius is trying desperately to wrap up his too-short life when a mythical relic of humanity’s fog-shrouded past walks in and hires him to do one last job. What starts out as Valerius just taking a stranger’s money quickly turns into the biggest and most dangerous mystery he’s ever tried to crack – and Valerius is running out of time to solve it.

Now Autumn’s abandoned history – and the monsters and heroes that adorn it – are emerging from the shadows to threaten the few remaining things Valerius holds dear. Can the burned-out detective navigate the labyrinth of lies and maze of blind faith around him to save the City of Autumn from its greatest myth and deadliest threat?


Falstaff Books | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | Goodreads

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Giveaway

Michael is giving away an eBook copy of “Perishables,” book one of The Withrow Chronicles, with this post:

Everybody hates their Homeowner’s Association, and nobody likes a zombie apocalypse. Put the two together, and Withrow Surrett is having a truly craptastic night.

Enter via Rafflecopter:

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Excerpt

The sun was over the trees at the southeastern edge of the sloped opening in the forest when I awoke. The sun woke me, actually: its rays on my face, the flicker of shadow and light as it played across my closed eyes. I was half dressed: my shoes off, my feet bare, and my coat spread over me in lieu of a blanket. My shirt was somewhere, probably. I wasn’t wearing it, anyway, and my eyes hadn’t opened yet, but I could feel it nearby the way you can sense an old dog by your chair or a former lover on the opposite side of an otherwise perfectly nice party.

My back curled against something firm and supporting and I felt gentle fingers stroke the tufts of silvery black at my temples. Hematite, a man told me once. I would always love him a little for saying that. My hair there wasn’t yet gray but no longer black and when wet it looked like hematite, and he said it like that meant something deep and significant and mystical I didn’t understand. Having someone’s fingers run through it felt good, though. It felt like a happy memory, like something I didn’t expect would happen much anymore if it ever really happened in the first place.

That simple touch was a comfort to me. It’s the most minor thing and, for that reason, the most missed when it’s gone. I don’t go long stretches without being touched, but it had been a while between caresses. This was that: a caress, and more; not exactly sexual but not exactly platonic. It was that happy in-between we call intimate. I made myself vulnerable to other men, and they themselves to me, more times than I can count in my too-short life. It didn’t always work out, though, that my usual flavor of street trade would show basic human kindness in return for mine.

None of that mattered, though. Those guys were long gone. Right that second, someone ran his fingers through my half-asleep hair, intimate and kind and caressing. I felt vulnerable and that was okay. For a few moments I wasn’t dying and I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t lonely and I wasn’t alone. The sun felt good, and the breeze through the branches sounded like Gaia herself telling me to go back to sleep. I thought for a moment I might be okay with dying fairly soon if I got to wake up like this every morning for the rest of my life.

“Okay,” I groaned. I didn’t move and I didn’t open my eyes because I wasn’t quite ready for the moment to go away even as I lifted the pin to pop its balloon. “You want something. So tell me what it is. Because if I say yes – if– I may not have much time to hold up my end of the bargain.” My voice dispelled all the magic of the moment, but his fingers were still at my temple, resting there, ready to go back to what we shared moments before. I rolled over and looked up at Alejandro, his purple hair down over half his face as he leaned on one elbow. I didn’t kiss him, but I did put one hand to his jaw and brush his cheek with my thumb. I wondered if he could feel that – really feel it, like skin feels it. “Let’s not pussyfoot around this. You want me to do something. The whole story about the angel and thinking someone was trying to kill you was bullshit, but there was something there, something worth chasing, so let’s have the truth now and get on with things.” I tried to smile at him. His expression was completely blank.

With the hand he used to brush my temples, he laid a fingertip behind my ear, cupping my face with barely a single point of contact. He still didn’t smile, but his eyes searched my face, my own eyes, for something. It occurred to me the correct phrasing might be to say he searched my eyes for someone. I assumed he’d been alive long enough to know a hell of a lot of people, and I would bet a nickel he looked for one of them in me. There are a hundred romantic stories about golems: meat sacks like me throwing ourselves at a golem out of infatuation with their embodiment of agelessness.

If he’d been there before, heard a hundred thousand of us wail about mortality and still willing to hear number one hundred thousand one, he must have a lot of love for humankind. No, I thought, more than that: he must have loved the hell out of oneof us at some point. Maybe he was waiting for that guy to walk back into his life, reemerging from the vast but finite pool of genetic factors we possess as a species. I wondered if I simply seemed close enough to that long-lost lover to pass muster for a night.

I also wondered what made a golem want to get laid in the first place: ever the detective, after all.

“I really did see an angel in Splendor,” Alejandro said. He still wasn’t smiling. If anything, he had the muted seriousness, the understated gravitas, I’d long since come to recognize as the posture of someone telling the truth at long last. I wondered how long it had been. “I swear it to you. I swear it.” He surprised me, then, because he didn’t cry, golems don’t have tear ducts, but his eyelids quivered with the autonomic response to strong emotion. He still hadn’t moved at all, and we were shielded from the breeze so that his hair hung straight down like a perfectly still and settled curtain across half the stage of his face. “And I believe it would try to kill me if it knew I were here.”

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Author Bio



Michael G. Williams writes wry horror, urban fantasy, and science fiction: stories of monsters, macabre humor, and subverted expectations. He is the author of three series for Falstaff Books: The Withrow Chronicles, including Perishables (2012 Laine Cunningham Award), Tooth & Nail, Deal with the Devil, Attempted Immortality, and Nobody Gets Out Alive; a new series in The Shadow Council Archives featuring one of San Francisco’s most beloved figures, SERVANT/SOVEREIGN; and the science fiction noir A Fall in Autumn. Michael also writes short stories and contributes to tabletop RPG development. Michael strives to present the humor and humanity at the heart of horror and mystery with stories of outcasts and loners finding their people.

Michael is also an avid podcaster, activist, reader, runner, and gaymer, and is a brother in St. Anthony Hall and Mu Beta Psi. He lives in Durham, NC, with his husband, two cats, two dogs, and more and better friends than he probably deserves.

Author Website: http://www.michaelgwilliams-author.com

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

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

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

Author Instagram: https://instagram.com/mcmanlypants

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6429992.Michael_G_Williams

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Michael-G.-Williams/e/B001KIYBBU/

Giveaway + Release Blitz: Nothing Special (Nothing Special #1) by A.E. Via

Celebrate with author A.E. Via the release of Nothing Special (Nothing Special #1) in audiobook narrated by Aiden Snow! Find out more about this law enforcement romance through the release blitz hosted by Signal Boost Promotions & enter in the giveaway for a chance to win an e-copy of the book! 

Buy Links: Audible US | Audible UK | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Narrated By: Aiden Snow

Length: 9hrs 47mins

Blurb

Detective Cashel "Cash" Godfrey is big, tattooed, and angry so people typically keep their distance. He's fresh out of the police academy, however, no one is looking to partner with the six-foot-four beast with a huge chip on his shoulder and an inability to trust. When Cash scans the orientation room he wasn't expecting to find sexy hazel eyes locked onto him. Eyes of the handsome Detective Leonidis "Leo" Day.


Leo is charming, witty, hilariously sarcastic and the only one that can make Cash smile. He's proud, out, and one bad-ass detective.


Together, Cash and Leo become the most revered and successful narcotics detectives Atlanta's ever seen. Able to communicate and understand each other, without even having to voice it, they quickly climb up the promotional ranks.


When Cash saves Leo's life in a raid that turns deadly, Leo begins to see something in the big man that no one else does...something special. But Leo fears he'll never break through the impenetrable wall that protects Cash's heart.


Contains mature themes.

Author Bio

A.E. Via has been a best-selling author in the beautiful gay romance genre for five years now, but she’s no stranger to MM. She’s been an avid reader of gay lit for over fifteen years before she picked up her laptop to place her own kiss on this genre. She’s also the founder and owner of Via Star Wings Books, having published a couple great new up and coming MM authors.


A.E. has a Bachelor of Arts in Criminal Justice from Virginia Wesleyan College that she used to start her own paralegal firm after she graduated in 2008. She spent five years preparing and filing bankruptcy petitions for struggling blue collar workers who couldn’t afford to file with a lawyer. It was a rewarding and satisfying career… but another path called to her. Writing.


A.E.’s writing embodies everything from hopelessly romantic to adventure, to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.


Now that she’s gotten over her 10 books published hump, she’s kind of known now for her hardcore, play rough and love hard, bad boy, alphas. However, she does like to push herself to step out of her comfort zone, exploring different tropes, but she won’t push herself into a whole other genre. She’s head over heels for gay romance and she has tons of more hot stories to tell.


Be sure to visit Adrienne on her social media pages and subscribe to her newsletter to never miss another release date! Go to A.E. Via’s official website http://authoraevia.com for more detailed information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peak at upcoming work, free reads, VSWB submissions, and where she’ll appear next.

Amazon | Goodreads | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter

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Hosted By Signal Boost Promotions

Giveaway + Blog Tour: Top Shelf (A Seacroft Novel) by Allison Temple

Welcome author Allison Temple & Vibrant Promotions who are stopping by today to promote Top Shelf! Find out more about this friends to lovers romance, read an excerpt & enter in the giveaway to win your very own e-copy! Good luck!

Top Shelf

A Seacroft Novel

Allison Temple

M/M Romance

Release Date: 05.20.19

Blurb

Martin is a ghost. Well, not really, but he might as well be. Job gone, home gone, self-respect gone, and no one even seems to notice. The only person who really sees him is Seb, the artist who lives above the used bookstore.

Seb haunts the edges of Seacroft in search of beauty. He knows how to excavate the hidden value in abandoned things—whether it's in the pages of forgotten books or in Martin's stuttering attempts to rebuild his life—and transform them into works of art.

Two lost souls, Seb and Martin discover the strength they need to face eccentric townies and their dysfunctional families together. But as friendship sparks toward something more, neither man wants to risk what they’ve only just found. It takes two to fall in love, but it will take the whole community to bring their beauty to life.

Top Shelf is an 81k slow burn friends-to-lovers MM romance. It features an anxious professor, a drama queen artist, a bookstore that might be haunted, and a full-blown heart-eyes HEA.

Amazon: http://bit.ly/Top-Shelf_

International: http://mybook.to/TopShelf

Excerpt

The distinct sound of footsteps had him freezing in place again. Martin’s breath went shallow, and he clutched at the phone. Was it inappropriate to call the police on his first day of work? There was someone in the store, and Martin was very sure he had not seen anyone come in since Cassidy had left.

He moved in between the shelves as his mind raced. What if someone had snuck in? Broken in?

Why would someone sneak in to steal used books?

Martin grabbed a cookbook off a shelf labeled ‘Everything is Better With Salt’ and hefted it, testing the weight. If someone was back there, and that someone was up to no good, Martin could use the book as a weapon.

There was a soft sound of someone humming, and it made the hairs on Martin’s neck prickle. He tripped at the edge of the next shelf.

“Cass, is that you?”

Martin froze with the cookbook half-raised to his shoulder. Every part of him went on alert at the sound of a man’s voice, much closer than he’d expected.

Another book dropped to the ground.

He peeked around a shelf. The first thing his brain registered was white, and it was almost enough to convince him that he was seeing a ghost. His fingers tightened around the cookbook.

A long pale arm reached up and lifted a book off the very top shelf.

It was a man.

He wore faded jeans and a gray T-shirt. His hair was bleached blond. If he was a thief, he was a terrible one, because he flipped through the book, then let it drop to the floor next to what must have been the other ones Martin had already heard fall.

He was a man though, whoever he was. Tall and solid. Not a ghost. Martin lowered the cookbook. Assaulting a customer on his first day would be a bad career move.

“Excuse me,” he said, but it was drowned out as the next book thumped to the floor. Martin hopped back a step, but gathered himself and tried again. “Excuse me. I’m closing up.”

“Sure thing,” the man said as he stretched up on his toes again, reaching for another book. His shirt lifted from the waist of his jeans, and the skin underneath was so pale it enhanced his ghostly appearance.

When Martin didn’t leave, the man glanced over his shoulder, and his face made Martin’s heart stop. He wasn’t a ghost or a thief, but whoever he was, he was handsome. Blue eyes flicked up and down once, like he was trying to decide the kind of threat Martin might pose.

As Martin inhaled to assert himself again, the man turned back to the shelf.

“You—” Martin swallowed hard, willing himself to stand firm. “You’ll have to go.”

Those blue eyes darted toward Martin again, like a wrist flicking at a fly. The man grinned, a slow sly grin that made Martin’s insides twist.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” the man said.

Martin’s ears burned. He knew a dismissal when he heard one.

“If—If there’s something you’d like to buy, I can help you cash out. Otherwise, we’ll be open again on Monday at—” What time did they open? It had been nine o’clock on Saturday. Was it the same time on weekdays?

The blond man frowned, and Martin’s heart lurched under the stranger’s scrutiny. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had really looked at him. For all his rising panic at the feeling of being alone in the store earlier, he very much wanted to return to that solitude right now. It was so much better than being the center of this man’s attention.

“How long have you worked here?” The strange man’s voice was soft and low, rippling through the space between them.

Martin shivered and had to focus to keep his feet planted. “We’re closing and—”

“Where’s Cass?” The man glanced over Martin’s shoulder, giving him a moment to breathe.

“Cassidy? She went home.”

“What’s your name?” Those eyes were on Martin again in an instant, making him light-headed.

“Martin.” Too late, he wondered if he shouldn’t have introduced himself, particularly when the other man made no effort to return the favor.

“Well then, Martin.” The man took a step forward. “It appears no one bothered to inform you—”

“I’ll call the owner.” Martin was losing ground and needed to fix this quickly. Calling Mrs. Green to resolve a grumpy customer was absolutely a bad idea, but he was on the verge of being run out of his own bookstore, so there weren’t many options left.

To illustrate that point, the blond man’s eyes widened and his lips formed into an ‘O’.

“No no. Please.” He held his hands wide, as his mouth pulled into another grin. Everything about it made Martin want to shrink into himself until he was nothing but a speck of dust on a bookshelf.

“I’m sorry,” he said, giving it one last go. “But we close at six and—”

The man didn’t appear to hear him. He toed through the pile of books at his feet.

Martin winced as pages bent under his shoes. “Please don’t—”

Thin fingers pinched the crumpled pages together and lifted them in the air, the book’s heavy covers flopping to the sides. There was the soft sound of paper tearing.

The man tucked the book under one arm. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll pay for it.” He put a hand in one of his pockets, then actually swaggered toward Martin, whose vision wavered as the man’s fingers brushed against his own. Martin gasped at the hard weight of something metal in his palm. The silence of the bookshop was broken by the sound of coins tumbling out of Martin’s frozen hand and onto the floor.

“That should cover it.” The man whispered it low. The feeling of his breath on Martin’s skin made him turn into a Martin-shaped statue, frozen in place as the other man slid past him.

“Nice to meet you,” the man said. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

It felt like hours, but it probably was only a matter of seconds before he trembled and broke out of his daze. The floorboards creaked as the man walked away. Martin knelt and collected the coins he’d dropped. They were all nickels and dimes, and they totaled up to just under two dollars.

A door closed and the shop fell quiet.

Martin wound his way back the way he’d come. Nerves boiled inside him, and he hesitated around every blind corner between shelves, half expecting the blond stranger to leap out at him like some deranged Jack in the Box. He stumbled into the open space at the front.

He was alone.

Martin went to the door. It surprised him that the hinges hadn’t made their booming wail as the man left.

His hand stopped as he reached for the deadbolt. It was still in position. The door was locked.

Where had the man come from? And where had he gone?

Allison Temple has been a writer since the second grade, when she wrote a short story about a girl and her horse. Her grandmother typed it out for her and said she’s never seen so many quotation marks from a seven-year-old before. Allison took that as a challenge and has gone on to try to break her previous record in all her subsequent works.

Allison lives in Toronto with her very patient husband and the world’s neediest cat. She splits her free time between writing, community theater stage management, and traveling anywhere that has good wine. Tragically, this leaves no time to clean her house.

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Review: Thirst for You (Beyond the Cove #2) by Jaclyn Quinn

What happens when thirst becomes an obsession that can’t be quenched?

Forty-year-old Zachariah Taylor prides himself on being the overprotective older brother of seven. He owns a successful bar, Zach’s Bar and Grill, in the quiet town of Riverside Falls and loves the life he’s built for himself. But as his siblings move on and find their forever partners in life, he’s starting to feel less and less needed—not to mention old. Suddenly, he’s finding it even harder to ignore the younger man who has pursued him for years, but the twelve years separating them is something Zach can’t seem to overlook.

Twenty-eight-year-old Drew Belford has been in love with the stubborn Zach Taylor for seven years. Sure, he was a kid when they’d first met, but what Zach is determined to ignore is the man Drew has become. Drew, however, is just as strong-minded and refuses to let Zach use their age difference as an excuse to disregard the attraction burning between them. He doesn’t need an overprotective older brother—he needs Zach.

When Drew begins to get unsettling messages from an unknown person, Zach feels helpless in a way he’s never felt before. How can he protect Drew from someone he can’t find? The thought of anyone hurting Drew unleashes years’ worth of pent-up desire Zach has had for the younger man. Is his thirst for Drew enough to protect him from the danger lurking in the shadows, or will the threat of the unknown be enough to dowse the spark of love between them—and silence Drew forever?

I’m going to start off with a warning: I didn’t read the first book in the series because this can be read as a stand-alone… at 2% I was confused and feeling like I should know some things. But, I kept pushing through.

Names were dropping faster than I could pick them up and it became clear that book #1 should definitely be read (or at least go on a review binge to gain understanding) before this one. However, I’m a special snowflake and decided to ignore this and thus it took a bit to get it all sorted. Luckily, after the first 25ish% the story picked up.

Drew is an extrovert with his sights set on his brother’s best friend A.K.A his boss and owner of the bar he works at. He isn’t shy about his interest much to the annoyance (and sexual frustration) of said owner, Zach. Drew has been biding his time in getting Zach to finally notice him as more than a kid and he expedites it in the most pleasurable of ways when he gets sick of waiting.

Zach is the boss and friends with Drew’s brother and therefore places him on the do not feel/fuck list… even if it’s pure torture to work with him each day and deny those feelings. Let’s not forget the age gap- Zach is 40 and Drew is 28. The way Zach acted, you would have thought he was 80. It’s constantly mentioned and I did want to scream *get over it* many times for this measly 12 year age gap. They have good chemistry and worked well together once they got on the same page.

Things really begin to pick up for Zach and Drew when a stalker is introduced. They come together for safety and comfort during a very scary time. The stalker plot is engaging and well written. I enjoyed the family aspect going on in Riverside Falls and would be open to continuing with this series. Some of the medical stuff left me scratching my head- not in confusion but with bafflement of actual medical policy/procedure/protocol in comparison to the events detailed in this book. Trigger warnings for one instance of homophobia and a stalker.

Recommended.

An ARC was provided in exchange for an honest review.

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Torn by Rick R. Reed

Celebrate the Dreamspinner Press release of Torn with author Rick R. Reed & Signal Boost Promotions. Find out more about this romance, read an excerpt & enter in the giveaway to win a signed paperback of Blue Umbrella Sky (US only) or an e-copy (international) of the same. Good luck!

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Dreamspinner Press | Universal Link

Length: 63,424 words

Cover Design: Reese Dante

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Blurb

Ever been torn between two lovers? That's Ricky Comparetto's problem.


It's 1995, and Ricky is making his very first trip across the pond with his best friend. Ricky, hungry for love and looking for it in all the wrong places, finds it in the beach city of Brighton. His new love has the curious name of Walt Whitman and is also an American, which only serves to make him sexier and more intriguing. By the time Walt and Ricky part, promises are made for a reunion in Boston.


But the course of true love never runs smooth. In Chicago Ricky almost immediately falls in love again. Tom Green is a sexy blue-collar beast with the kindest heart Ricky has ever run across.


What's he to do? With a visit to the East Coast on the horizon and a new love blossoming in Ricky's home of Chicago, Ricky truly is torn.


Excerpt


In which our hero, Ricky Comparetto, finds himself lost on his very first time in London in the wee hours of the morning. It serves him right, after his shameless behavior at an after-hours sex club.

Much later, I found myself wandering the streets of London near New Scotland Yard, searching through its labyrinthine corridors for Trevor’s building. In the quiet darkness of London’s wee small hours, it seemed the world had paused to take a breath. Again, a feeling of things being surreal overcame me; I wondered if I’d ever find my way back to Boutros again, or if I’d be doomed to wander endlessly through this curving warren of streets.

It was maybe three o’clock in the morning, and Westminster felt almost like a movie set, perhaps something dystopian, where the main character wakes to find the world empty. The light of Big Ben shone in the distance, but I had no idea how to get back to Trevor’s.

I was too exhausted to panic, however, even though I felt like a rat in a maze, a charming, historic maze, but a maze nonetheless. Looking back, I recall that I felt serene, strange as that is to remember.

I had just decided to see if I could find a park bench or curb to lie down on—to await morning’s light and new clarity to get back to my friends—when I discovered that there was such a thing as a bobby, the Brits’ word for a patrolman on foot. This bobby, who was dressed all in black with a tall hat adorned with a shield, and I appeared to be the only ones about, other than the black cabs that passed by stealthily, similar to the one that had deposited me in a place I’d believed was close to Trevor’s.

I approached the bobby and told him, a little abashed, that I was lost. I supplied him with the name of the street I sought and, for good measure, what Trevor’s building looked like.

He nodded, all business. “You need to cross the Thames”—he pointed that way—“and then make your way back in the opposite direction from where you were going. You’re not far.”

I thanked him, but his directions simply didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to argue with him, and I certainly didn’t want to believe he was fucking with me, so I didn’t question him. I may have been lost, but I wasn’t that lost. I let him continue on his rounds. I stood still, not wanting him to see me continue on what he’d most likely perceive as my misguided path. Why’d you bother asking him if you weren’t going to listen? I wondered but had no good answer for myself.

I plopped down on a bench to ponder what I should do. I supposed that, with morning’s light, Boutros would be worried (or worse, would believe I’d shacked up with yet another man) and come looking.

I questioned my decision to part from Boutros and Trevor earlier in the evening, when the gay club we were drinking at closed its doors way too early for me. I mean, really, eleven o’clock? And this was “swingin’” London? Trevor suggested I go to an “after-hours” club called the Brick. He told me it was a no-holds-barred kind of place. Or was it “no-holes-barred”? Whatever. The idea of the “Felliniesque” club, as Trevor described it, appealed to me.

So I went, met a few nice boys, and ended the evening by being showered with come in a cloakroom, courtesy of one half of a couple I’d met who were visiting London from Liverpool.

I thought it would be easy to get home because Trevor’s building was within walking distance of New Scotland Yard, which is where I told my cabbie to drop me.

I hadn’t counted on streets that curved, and ended and began with no rhyme or reason. I hadn’t counted on the buildings and streets all looking so alike.

I should have.

After a while, I got up from the bench and started wandering again. And then I stopped… and sighed with relief. Just ahead was one of those iconic red phone booths you might imagine when you think of London—or Doctor Who.

“Oh thank God,” I whispered, making my way to the booth. I groped in my pocket, hoping the receipt upon which Trevor had written his phone number earlier was still there. What if it isn’t? I thought, the panic already causing my pulse rate to quicken despite my fatigue, the copious amounts of alcohol I’d imbibed, and the two orgasms I’d had at the Brick.

But my hand curled around the little slip of paper, and I brought it out and squinted at the scrawled number in the wan light. I lifted the phone off the hook, deposited a mystifying array of coins that I hoped would be enough, and dialed.

Trevor answered, voice heavy with sleep.

I told him my problem and described where I was, along with the cross streets nearby.

He didn’t seem fazed, for which I was grateful. “Hang on, sweetie. I’ll be right there.” He disconnected before I could say anything else.

I left the phone booth and sat down on a curb. I regarded the crescent moon above for only the shortest of times. Trevor appeared before me, like an angel, within a matter of fewer than five minutes.

I didn’t have much to say, other than to express my gratitude… and embarrassment.

His building turned out to be around the next corner.

Real Men. True Love.


Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love. He’s the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” You can find him at www.rickrreed.com or www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix.


Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/rickrreedbooks

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Out of the Shade by S.A. McAuley

A Novel Take PR and author S.A. McAuley host the Out of the Shade exclusive blog tour! Learn more about the contemporary romance, check out today's exclusive excerpt and enter in the $10 Amazon gift card giveaway (Three winners!)

Out of the Shade by S.A. McAuley

Publisher: Self-pub (S.A. McAuley, LLC)

Release Date (Print & Ebook): May 21, 2019

Length (Print & Ebook): 332 pages (print), 103k words

Subgenre: Contemporary

Warnings: alcoholism, mentions of sexual and physical abuse, mentions of drug addiction, mentions of rape, attempted suicide by a minor character, violence, homophobia, closeting

Order now: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07QBNNR5N?ref_=pe_3052080_276849420


Book synopsis:

Jesse Solomona has always tried to be the perfect straight guy—a cocky sports fan who drinks more than he did in his fraternity days and an expert at one-night-stands. That he hooks up with just as many men as he does women is a secret Jesse’s been hiding for years, fearful of losing his family and tight group of friends. He’s a Kensington boy—a group of guys that grew up in the same neighborhood and somehow all ended up back in their hometown. They, and his family, are the only things that still matter in his otherwise soul-sucking life.

Chuck Dunn, a tattooed and pierced sports photographer, has refused to step back into the closet since he was disowned by his family, but he keeps choosing men who can’t fully be with him. Finally free from a long-term relationship he should’ve ended years ago, he quits his high-profile gig in favor of getting back to the art of sports photography—documenting a local boxing club that works with at-risk teenagers. He may not have the same swagger anymore, but he’s working to be happy with who he is.

When Chuck joins one of the Kensington boys’ community center sports leagues, Jesse’s self-imposed rules are systematically demolished. But there’s one barrier Jesse can’t find the strength to break through—coming out to the other Kensington boys. Chuck knows hooking up with Jesse is a bad idea. Falling for him even worse. But he can’t stay away.

Chuck is damaged by his past. Jesse is frightened about his future. But, together, they may just be able to come out of the shade.

BMBR Excerpt

Jesse riffled through an old issue of Sports Illustrated, stopping to glance at the byline of each photo and finding, just like Kam had said, Chuck’s name peppered throughout the glossy mag.
Chuck was stretched out on the couch, his feet crossed on the armrest and hands balancing his phone on his bare chest as he typed. Jesse cleared his throat and turned the pages more forcefully, with a loud thwack each time despite the flimsiness, but Chuck’s eyes stayed riveted to his phone. Jesse flipped to an action shot of a hockey player, blatantly stared at Chuck, and held the magazine up.
Chuck’s gaze flicked to Jesse, the corner of his lips tugged up, and he set his cell on the coffee table. “Meow?”
Jesse stared at him blankly, then roared with laughter. “Yeah, cat’s out of the bag, buddy.”
“Sorry I wasn’t the one to tell you.” Chuck sat up, scratching his stubble. “With as much as we’ve been talking, I’m honestly surprised it didn’t come up yet.”
“Well, you’ve been outed. Big time. What the fuck?”
Chuck ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it. “Are you seriously pissed?”
“Hell no! This shit is awesome. I gotta ask, though….”
Jesse took a deep breath. He wasn’t pissed that Chuck hadn’t told him about his previous job—the man’s business was his own. What was fucking with his head, though, was that a guy with that status, and likely the money that followed, could’ve used it as bait to get whatever man he wanted into bed.
He’d searched for even a hint of that persona when Chuck had knocked on his door last night, but once they were alone inside, Chuck had kissed him with confidence, not bravado. Then he’d thrown his hoodie over the arm of the couch, stripped down to nothing, and let Jesse take control. Jesse hadn’t really expected Chuck’s actions, or his own view of Chuck, to change at all—Chuck wasn’t a prick.
He simply couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Chuck could’ve picked anyone, and yet he’d chosen Jesse.
“I don’t get it. I’m a salesman in a suburban shithole. Why…me?”
Chuck furrowed his brow like the question didn’t make sense. “Because I like you too, asshole.”
Jesse chuckled. It wasn’t exactly a romantic proclamation, but warmth spread through Jesse’s chest nonetheless.
“Listen. I should’ve told you. But people look at me differently when they know.”
“You thought I would?”
Chuck shook his head. “Charles Dunnbradley is my birth name, but it isn’t me. You know the real me, not that guy”—Chuck waved a hand dismissively over the stack of magazines—“and you still want me around.”
Now Jesse was even more confused. “You’re fucking with me, right? You have your shit together and I’m a closeted, out of shape—”
“Hey.”
Chuck’s gentle tone cut Jesse off immediately. Chuck stood and closed the distance between them, climbing into the chair with Jesse and straddling his hips. “Your body turns me on, Jesse. You turn me on. And I definitely don’t have my shit together.”
Jesse wrapped an arm around Chuck’s waist and pulled him closer. “You want to tell me about that?”
“Not now.” Chuck tipped his head and bit at his lip. “The rest of me is a canvas you’ll just have to unfurl.”
Jesse snorted. “Damn, you are an artist.”

Author S.A. McAuley is a wandering LGBTQ author who sleeps little and reads a lot. Happiest in a foreign country. Twitchy when not mentally in motion. Her name is Sam, not Sammy, definitely not Samantha. She’s a dark/cynical/jaded person, but hides that darkness well behind her obsession(s) with shiny objects.

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Giveaway: 

Celebrate the release of OUT OF THE SHADE with author S.A. McAuley by entering this giveaway for a chance to win 1 of 3 $10 Amazon Gift Cards!

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