Release Blitz + Giveaway: Dragon Deception (Supernatural Consultant #2) by Mell Eight


Join author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing in celebrating the release of Dragon Deception (Supernatural Consultant #2)! Discover more about the dragon shifter YA and enter in the $20 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Dragon Deception
Series: Supernatural Consultant, Book Two
Author: Mell Eight
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: June 22, 2020
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 31900
Genre: Paranormal, NineStar Press, LGBTQIA+, YA, dragon shifter, mage, mates, men with children, magical detective agency, shifter rescue, magic-users

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Synopsis

A life full of children and mysteries to solve doesn’t leave much time for relaxation or each other, something Lumie wants to help fix for Dane and Mercury by way of arranging a picnic. But good intentions and life rarely cooperate, and Dane knows it’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose.

Hell turns out to be someone using Quicksilver’s name to destroy buildings, but there’s no way to tell whether the enemy is an impostor or a trap. Hopefully it won’t mean missing the picnic.

Excerpt

Dragon Deception
Mell Eight © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
“A picnic?” Dane repeated, looking down at Lumie and Alloy’s eager faces with skepticism and disbelief. These were Mercury’s outlandish kits. Why couldn’t they have waited to ask Mercury when he got home? Daisy, once his part-time housekeeper and more recently his and Mercury’s full-time nanny, was at a parent-teacher conference for her own kids, so she wasn’t a possible savior for at least five more minutes. Dane couldn’t stall that long, and Mercury hadn’t yet gotten home from work. It looked like Dane would have to save himself. “Why a picnic?”

“You and Daddy work too much,” Lumie explained solemnly as Alloy nodded in agreement. “You go, relax, and the answer will come to you.”

“Like magic!” Alloy chirped eagerly.

Lumie and Alloy were in a neck-and-neck race for which kit was Mercury’s strangest. Alloy should win for his looks alone. Unlike most dragons, he had hatched with two powers: fire and water. All other elemental dragons could only use one element, but Alloy was different—and that difference was reflected on the outside too. In human form, he had one red eye and one blue. His hair and his scales when he was in dragon form were an even mixture of the two colors. That the red and blue hadn’t mixed into purple was odd, but Alloy actually enjoyed having two colors.

Alloy was the result of a cruel experiment done by humans looking to harness dragon magic for their own selfish use. One day Dane was going to crush those humans, as soon as he could find them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t love the results. They had made Alloy into something different, something special—but even he wasn’t as special as Lumie.

Lumie was also the result of experimentation. He looked normal for a fire elemental dragon. His hair in human form was flame red, as were his eyes. His scales in dragon form were a universal red as well. Whatever had been done to him wasn’t reflected on the outside, but rather with his magic. Lumie had fire magic like all dragons of his kind, but he was also impervious to the magic of others. He could walk through wards that would stop Dane without feeling a twinge and sneak around Dane’s house without Dane knowing he was there. Sometimes Dane wondered if Lumie was prescient as well, but since he didn’t walk around prophesying all the time, Dane couldn’t say for certain.

Both boys were five years old, although since Alloy liked to cuddle and play while Lumie had grown to be more aloof, it often felt like there were multiple years between them. They were just two of Mercury’s seven kits, all adopted. Unlike the kits, who were all elemental dragons, Mercury was a bronze precious dragon. His kits were all young dragons he’d rescued from secret government labs. It was unusual for dragons to mix between elements, never mind between elemental and precious, but they somehow made it work. All of the kits—even Lumie and Alloy—were beyond the age most adults would allow them to share territory, but Mercury wasn’t most adults. He, and now Dane, were committed to raising them to full adulthood. Which meant occasionally entertaining the whims of five-year-olds.

Dane could tell that Alloy and Lumie were both eager to help, given that they continued to stare expectantly at him, and he found himself unable to say no.

“Tomorrow,” Dane said, caving into their wide puppy-dog eyes. “Mercury and I will have a picnic lunch. Will that be okay?”

They cheered and smiled. “I have to tell Copper!” Alloy exclaimed, spinning on one heel and dashing out of Dane’s office door. Dane could hear him yelling Copper’s name all the way down the hall.

“I’ll make sure you have all the right picnic foods ready,” Lumie said before he followed Alloy at a much more sedate pace. Dane hid his grimace until he was certain Lumie was gone. Lumie and edible foods weren’t exactly synonymous. He liked food with cinnamon in it, the more the better, and he couldn’t quite grasp the fact that other people would throw up and die if they ate as much as he did.

Also, what were the chances that Lumie actually knew what foods belonged in a picnic? Pretty low, dammit. Maybe Dane could order a pizza and sneak it to the picnic spot without Lumie noticing. That way Mercury and Dane would be able to eat something and Lumie would still be happy.

It would take some finagling to get a pizza past Lumie, since he noticed everything, but Dane wasn’t the son of a god for nothing. He would find a way or, knowing Lumie, die trying. Mercury would need to be warned, too, Dane reminded himself. Still, that was a problem for tomorrow. Dane had a lead on his current case that he wasn’t about to let grow cold.

Two weeks ago, a mother dragon and her three very young kits had been attacked. She managed to get safely away with all three kits, but her mate was badly injured. He sent word to Dane, since Dane had made it widely known over the past five years that he was very interested in helping any dragon in need. The enemy had left the father dragon for dead, uninterested in a full-grown dragon when they had three kits to snatch. Dane needed to find the kits and their mother before the enemy did and get them to safety with the still-healing mate.

Dane’s newest lead was from a werewolf who’d stopped by Dane’s office to tell Dane about the strange bag lady he’d run into two nights previously. It had been the full moon, so some of what he had seen was a little shaky in his memory, but he clearly recalled a harried-looking woman wearing what looked like two dresses and three coats pushing a shopping cart through the woods where he and his pack were hunting. He remembered three children in the cart, he told Dane, but none of them had smelled like prey, so he and the pack had moved on.

Either that was the mother dragon ineffectively trying to hide by wearing human clothing, following customs that she didn’t quite understand—she was a wild dragon from the forest, not one taken in as a kit by humans like Mercury had been—or Dane had a lamia hunting in his territory. A lamia would need to be destroyed at once before she started eating children, so it was imperative Dane locate whoever the werewolf had seen.

Dane pushed his chair away from his desk and stood. He couldn’t do anything more from home, and his kits were in Daisy’s care. The answer was somewhere in that forest. Dane had already done one grid search of the area, but this time he would widen his search. It was impossible to keep three young dragons corralled for long. Dane knew that from experience; Lumie and Alloy hadn’t been easy to deal with when they were only a few months out of the egg, not that they were any easier five years later. The missing kits would have caused a mess somewhere that their mother couldn’t hide. Dane just had to find it, especially before the enemy did. Dane heard Daisy talking in the kitchen, so he knew the kits were being supervised and he could leave to continue his search.

Magic came to his call easily, and as Dane walked forward, he let it pull him away. The first step was on the hard floor of his home office, but a second later his feet crunched on leaves as he walked into the forest. The trees above were showing off their autumn colors of red, orange, and yellow, while the leaves on the ground were turning an ugly shade of brown. They hid the paw prints from the werewolf pack that Dane remembered from his last time here a day ago, but autumn was really starting to progress now and many of the tracks he had followed before were obscured. Dane hoped fervently there would be new tracks now.

He directed his magic to send feelers out around him, allowing him to sense more than his eyes could see alone. The magic delved up into the trees and down hills. Dane used it to dig underneath large piles of leaves so he wouldn’t have to search them by hand. He wasn’t searching for dragons like Lumie, who had been experimented on and therefore had the ability to hide from magic at will. These were ordinary, wild elemental dragons. When Dane got near them, he would know. He would also know if he found a lamia: their magic was even more distinct than a dragon’s and always felt slightly warped to Dane. Any creature that did something as vile as eat children pinged wrongly on his magical radar.

The sun was setting earlier and earlier as winter approached. Soon it was difficult to see the difference between a pile of leaves and other debris and what was simply a shadow thrown by the trees. It was even more difficult thanks to the irregular shapes of the trees overhead. Some of them still had all of their leaves while others were nearly bare. The worst were the trees that had only lost half their leaves; they threw both bulky and barren shadows, their strangeness catching Dane’s eye.

He spent two hours walking a large grid, back and forth through the forest, while his magic swept an even larger grid around him. There was plenty of evidence of the werewolf pack. Fallen leaves hid the visible evidence of footprints and claw marks, but Dane could sense lingering pack magic around the trees. Anyone with a hint of magic would be able to sense that the woods were owned and know to stay away. Which would tell a dragon with territorial urges to pass through quickly and quietly, of course.

Dane froze in place and called himself eighty different kinds of stupid. How had he missed something so obvious? He shouldn’t be trusted with helping an old lady get her cat out of a tree, let alone saving dragons from an unknown enemy. Hell, Dane shouldn’t even be allowed to leave the house if he kept making stupid mistakes.

Two days of exhausting work wasted, all because Dane hadn’t bothered to think.

Elemental dragons, like the mother and kits he was searching for, would immediately know they had encroached on someone else’s territory. When Dane’s werewolf contact had seen her on the last full moon, she was probably trying to get out of the werewolves’ hunting ground as fast as possible. And Dane, in his idiocy, had confined his search to the hunting ground. Dane would have been amazingly, impossibly lucky to find the tracks of a shopping cart underneath all the leaves, but he had kept up with his wild goose chase for far too long. The dragons were an additional two days ahead of him, and Dane doubted the enemy had made the same stupid mistake he had.

Dane needed a map and he needed to begin figuring out where he should have been searching. He strode forward and let his magic pull him away again. Dane reappeared at home in his office and hurried over to his desk where his laptop sat waiting for him.

He almost sat on Lumie before Dane noticed he was sleeping in Dane’s desk chair. Lumie was upside down, his messy red hair flopping toward the ground while his feet were hooked over one of the armrests. His thumb was firmly planted in his mouth. Lumie had grown a lot in the five years Dane had known him, but Dane knew the one thing about Lumie that would never change was how strange he was. He was odd even for a dragon, but that honestly only made him more loveable. It also made him one of the more annoying kits living under Dane’s roof, but it was an annoyance Dane was happy to live with.

Instead of waking him, Dane took his laptop and left his office. All the wards that kept everyone else out were still up and running. Dane double-checked them as he softly closed the door behind him and stepped into the hall. An ominous crash sounded from downstairs before Dane could move more than a few feet down the hall toward the bedroom he shared with Mercury. He rushed into the bedroom and dropped his laptop onto the sitting table by the fireplace in the corner, then turned around and quickly retraced his steps until he reached the stairs.

No one was screaming and Dane didn’t smell smoke, but that didn’t always mean much in his household. Dane reached the kitchen and Daisy wordlessly pointed to the set of double doors that led to the dining room. He followed her directions and pushed through the doors. The centerpiece of the room was a massive sixteen-seater oak table. It had been flipped over, and the sixteen chairs had been scattered around the room. Dane sent his magic toward the table and lifted it in one swift motion, hoping he didn’t find a squashed kit underneath. When Dane didn’t see blood, he rotated the table and put it back where it belonged. He sent his magic after the chairs too. As Dane flipped the last chair into place, he found Alloy clinging to the cushion.

The room had looked like a giant gust of wind had blown through it, which meant Zinc, the lone air dragon living under Dane’s roof, was the culprit. Alloy would have to serve as Dane’s witness.

“Alloy, what happened?” Dane asked, kneeling on the floor next to him. “Are you okay?”

Alloy popped his blue eye open, saw who was talking to him, and opened his red eye too. “Are Zinc and Copper done yelling at each other?” he asked.

“For the moment,” Dane replied with an inward sigh. Their flirting had been cute when they were eight years old. Now that they were thirteen and hormones were making them even stupider about it… Dane didn’t understand how Mercury could laugh over the sheer amount of destruction they caused. Dane was really glad Copper hadn’t been the one to lose this round. Instead of flipping the table, he would have set it on fire.

Since Dane couldn’t hear anything else getting smashed around the house, he felt it was safe to assume that Copper and Zinc had concluded this particular fight. Or they had taken it outside and were busy destroying his lawn. That was also possible.

Alloy sighed in relief and climbed off the chair. “Okay. It’s time for dinner anyway.” He grinned and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Dane followed. There was research to do, but leaving Daisy alone with all the kits when he didn’t have to was cruel. She usually left right after cooking dinner so she could spend the evening with her own family, but was staying later tonight because she had started work today after her kids’ parent-teacher conferences.

Daisy had set plates along the kitchen island where Dane had bought high stools for the kits to sit on. Lumie, ’Ron, and Chrome were already seated and waiting eagerly for dinner to be served. Alloy climbed onto his stool next to Lumie. Copper’s stool was still empty, but he would be joining them soon, as would Zinc and Nickel.

’Ron and Chrome were both earth elemental dragons. They were nine years old and they shared the same brown hair and eyes, but the similarities ended there. ’Ron had embraced being a girl from the very first moment Daisy had introduced her to dresses, and now ’Ron was looking forward to puberty so she could start filling out. Chrome had decided to embrace being a boy instead. He wore ratty shirts and played every sport he could, and ’Ron avoided him like the plague, something Mercury insisted meant that he and ’Ron were eventually going to have a lot of kits of their own together. Mercury said that a lot, though, and Dane wasn’t entirely certain he believed him. Then again, dragons were a bit odd when it came to finding their mates. If Mercury thought that ’Ron and Chrome would realize they had that connection after puberty, Dane knew Mercury would encourage them to be happy together. It wouldn’t matter to them or to Mercury that they were being raised as siblings. They weren’t related by blood, and the mating bond trumped adoptive family ties.

Nickel was the most serious of Mercury’s kits. He was a water dragon with blue hair and eyes, and he had made it his mission to personally rescue the dragons. Nickel was Dane’s assistant at Dane’s consulting firm, and he worked there every day instead of staying behind to play with Copper and Zinc, who were both his age.

Daisy clicked her tongue unhappily at the empty seats, but she started serving food to the kits that were present. Her green skin was bright and vibrant, which meant the parent-teacher conference had gone well. Her own kids were a handful, too, which only meant that she was experienced enough to handle Dane’s. He had doubled her salary when he invited Mercury and the kits to live with him permanently, and she had obligingly doubled her work hours.

“Lumie, are ya done in the kitchen tonight?” Daisy asked once everyone present had been served, Dane included. Dane usually waited for Mercury to get home to eat on the few nights he had to work past dinnertime, but it was nice to eat with the kits on occasion too.

Lumie nodded. “I made everything for the picnic,” he insisted. “I’ll put it in the basket tomorrow.” Lumie had done the cooking? Dane suppressed a wince and a groan. He was five years old, for Pete’s sake. What the hell was he doing cooking a picnic for Mercury and Dane? And how horrible would it taste? Ordering a pizza to eat instead of Lumie’s picnic was sounding like a better idea every minute.

Nickel strolled into the kitchen just moments after the food was served. He was reading from a packet of papers, either schoolwork or, more likely, casework from Dane’s firm as he took his stool. Daisy frowned pointedly at him, and Nickel tucked the papers away and let ’Ron draw him into conversation. Copper and Zinc slunk in moments later. They wouldn’t look at each other, and their stools were on opposite sides of the kitchen island. Copper immediately started grilling Alloy about his day. Copper was essentially the one raising Alloy, not Mercury or Dane, and he took being Alloy’s big brother very seriously. Zinc pulled her long white hair away from her face and joined ’Ron and Nickel’s conversation.

Daisy had been trying to teach the kits table manners, but even though they all managed to use a fork and knife to eat, they stuffed their faces quickly and dashed off.

“Bath time!” Daisy yelled after Lumie and Chrome, who both ran out of the kitchen pretending they hadn’t heard her. Daisy sighed, but collected dishes from the counter. “I’ll catch up with the scamps,” she insisted when Dane stood and began helping gather the dirty plates. “I’m sure ya still have work to do.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” Dane told her seriously. With both Mercury and Dane working, there was no way they could have raised all the kits without Daisy’s help. “How were your parent-teacher conferences?”

Daisy sighed. “Good. My brats are passing middle school, although Jeremy wants to take up football.” Dane winced, thinking about her rambunctious kids running around learning to tackle people. It would only be worse if Chrome were the one who wanted to play. Dane made a promise to himself to never let Chrome even try. Although Dane couldn’t get any of his kits into school at all.

Nickel had heard just how long the school day was, asked Dane how he was supposed to get any work done when he was stuck in a horrible classroom all day, then informed Dane that he wouldn’t be attending. Luckily Dane had gotten a compromise out of Nickel that he would study for three hours every day with a tutor Dane had hired for him and spend at least one hour every night on homework. Once the other kits had learned that Nickel wouldn’t be attending school, they had also refused, but thanks to Nickel’s compromise, they spent the better part of the day in a classroom. When Mercury, the tutor, or Dane could catch them first, of course. Dane was going to make certain that they would all get their GEDs at the very least.

“Yeah, it’s a mess,” Daisy finished, echoing Dane’s own thoughts closely, “but I’ll figure it out. Now, ya git. We’ve both got stuff that needs doing.” She was smiling as she made shooing motions, so Dane allowed himself to be pushed from the kitchen.

He walked up the stairs and turned toward his bedroom where he had left his laptop. Dane could hear splashing from one of the bathrooms down the other wing of the house, so at least someone was obeying Daisy. Probably ’Ron or Zinc. Nickel would finish his work first while Copper would avoid the water for as long as Daisy let him. Daisy would have to catch Lumie and force him into the water, and Alloy’s bath depended on whether he was embracing his fire or water half that day.

Dane left them to it and headed into his bedroom. His computer was where he had left it, so he settled into one of the armchairs, popped it open, and called up a map of the Great Appalachian Valley. It stretched from Alabama all the way up into Newfoundland. Dane’s territory was a small part of that. He controlled from north of the Mason-Dixon line—although his territory did stretch down the Chesapeake Bay into Maryland in a few places, so that wasn’t exactly an accurate description—and ended at the Canadian border. Dane watched over the Northeast primarily, the boundary of which depended on which map he looked at. Some said the Northeast began in Virginia and followed the coast to Maine; others said it began in Pennsylvania; and yet more insisted it was everything east of New York, which was essentially New England. Regardless, in Dane’s opinion, north of the portions of Maryland that he controlled was all his.

The werewolf’s pack territory was in the Lehigh Valley in Pennsylvania. The mother dragon wouldn’t have traveled south or west, as an extremely territorial Minotaur had set up his maze in the mountains there. She couldn’t have gone east because she would have run into human civilization, the very creature she was running from. Which only left north. Given the amount of time she had been on the run and the distance Dane calculated she could have traveled with three kits in tow, she must be in the Hudson or the Mohawk Valley in New York. It was a large geographic area, but aside from the lone cat shifters setting up small territories throughout, there wasn’t anything to keep her from feeling safe. Therefore, this was the most logical area for Dane to resume searching. He would start walking a grid in the Hudson Valley, keeping away from the suburbs of New York City, and head toward Albany. She and her kits had to be somewhere in between the two big cities.

First thing tomorrow, Dane would start walking through the valleys.

“Almost done?” Mercury asked, leaning over Dane’s shoulder to look at what he was researching. Mercury’s long bronze hair brushed Dane’s arm as he settled his chin on Dane’s shoulder. Dane loved the way Mercury looked with his full lips, small and pert nose, and his thick lashes over his bronze-colored eyes. Mercury’s hair was also a beautiful bronze color that echoed the large scales that covered most of his body.

“Yeah,” Dane sighed. He had his starting point, so he didn’t need to keep looking at maps. Going out searching in the dark in those mountainous woods was dangerous. Dane had to at least wait for first light.

“Good,” Mercury breathed. He tilted his head and took the point of Dane’s ear in his teeth. “Because Daisy has Lumie in the tub right now. She’s running the water faster than he can evaporate it, but they’ll still be a while.”

Which meant that they didn’t have to worry about Lumie walking through the wards and locked bedroom door and seeing something he shouldn’t. Dane grinned and shut his laptop, then turned his head to take Mercury’s mouth in a proper kiss. Sometimes it was awkward finding time to be together, but Daisy had informed Dane that he was only living the hell of any parent. In a way, it made the time they did find together more special.

Dane loved Mercury, and it was nice to know Mercury loved Dane too, even after five years together.

Purchase

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Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Blog Tour: Till Death Do Us Part by Dieter Moitzi


Need a murder mystery in your life? Find out more about Till Death Do Us Part by author Dieter Moitzi & read an excerpt hosted by Gay Book Promotions. 

BLOG TOUR


Book Title: Till Death Do Us Part (Poireaut & Di Angeli, Book 1)

Author: Dieter Moitzi

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Dieter Moitzi

Genre/s: Cosy Murder Mystery

Trope/s: M/M romance, enemies to lovers, slow-burn, HFN, holidays

Themes: painful past, Egypt, cosy, slow romance, holidays

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: approx. 101 750 words/approx. 305 pages 

It is a standalone book.



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Come on board the Queen of Egypt and discover this new murder mystery full of witty dialogs, funny situations, and blooming love! Already short-listed for the French Gay Book Award 2020!


Blurb

When Auntie Agathe invites Raphaël Poireaut, a young Parisian bartender, on a Nile cruise, he isn’t really thrilled. To stare at old stones together with a bunch of old codgers—why, thanks for the gift. Unsurprisingly the trip starts off badly enough. Not only does Raphaël have an unnerving confrontation with a handsome but standoffish and haughty Italian guy, but he has barely stepped on board the cruise ship when he stumbles upon a tourist… who has been stabbed to death.

The young Venetian Stefano di Angeli agrees to spend his vacation in Egypt with his best friend Grazia. He hasn’t had holidays for six years. But his first encounter with a young, angel-faced, curly-haired Frenchie brings back painful memories. Besides, what could be worse to start a Nile cruise than to discover a murder has been committed on board? Cazzo—fate seems to bear him a grudge!

While the Egyptian police led by Colonel Al-Qaïb are investigating the murder, Raphaël and Stefano find themselves swept away by the events… and by the blooming feelings that inexorably draw them closer. Will they manage to sort out the truth from the lies and find the murderer? Will they be able to resist this mutual attraction that seems to overwhelm them against their wills?

A new, funny and light adventure by the author of “The Stuffed Coffin”, the French version of which has won the French Gay Murder Mystery Award 2019.
 





Excerpt

The young guy hears my quiet steps, or he senses my gaze. He turns around.

Oh, hel-lo, man! My heart does a backwards flip. In my job I meet handsome guys aplenty. But this one is a class of his own. His face could be that of a male model, I kid you not. As if one of those unreal guys had stepped out of the glossy pages of Vogue Homme or GQ. Manly features, sensual mouth. Square chin, Roman nose, neatly trimmed designer stubble. His forehead is bare, his dense hair styled backwards and falling behind his left ear in a natural, lazy wave as if doing it spontaneously.

Alas, my immediate interest isn’t shared. On the contrary, he reacts as if suddenly facing a monster. He should be thankful the rail in his back prevents him from moving too far back and falling into the Nile.

Quite a boost for my self-esteem.

The handsome cretin pulls himself together at the last moment and scans me from head to toe. His cold gaze hovers over my naked chest, and he frowns, his eyebrows bushy but perfectly drawn. I notice that his whole body-language exudes barely concealed distance and aversion.

Despite his hostility, I murmur, “Hi”. Somewhat coolly perhaps, but still. I was raised like that. All right, I add “Asshole!” in my head, because, hello?

The young man answers with a nod. A black lock falls over his eyes, he puts it back in place. He seems to hesitate, then turns his back on me again.

Okay, asshole. Go ahead, continue your moody brooding, I don’t care. I don’t need no mens, even if they’re handsome as fuck.

HALF AN HOUR LATER, THE sun has started its race across the pristine sky for good; the heat has risen as well. The hipster slash asshole is still sulking in his corner when I sit on a shady deckchair. Our meeting was unpleasant, but he and the guy in pink belie my initial prognosis, and that’s a good start. We’re at least three on this boat to contemplate our sixties from below.

With the back of my hand, I wipe off the sweat trickling down my chest and soaking my chest hair. I realize I’m thirsty. There’s a bottle of water in the fridge in my cabin. Let’s go get it. You always need to stay hydrated, as Auntie would say. Granted, she means drinks, as in alcoholic beverages, but that doesn’t make it wrong.

The man in the pink tracksuit has apparently seen enough, too. When I get to the top of the stairs, he’s on the last step.

He’s waiting downstairs, holding the door for me.

“Thank you,” I say.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he remarks in an affable tone.

I look up in surprise. His beautifully low voice doesn’t match his puny physique and the mousey face. He makes an affected hand movement. “The landscape, I mean. The light.”

Automatically, I think, Oh. Family. “Very beautiful indeed,” I reply. “And ‘splendid things gleam in the dust’…”

Recognizing the Flaubert-quote, he laughs good-heartedly.

The swinging door closes behind us. Another door slams softly somewhere down the corridor. In the first cabin, I hear a woman say heatedly, “... I think he got it. He won’t bother you anymore, tweety.”

Tweety! Smirk. I really wouldn’t want to be pet-named tweety.

We pass other cabins; the vague noises of conversations, no more than murmurs, drifting out. I can hear showers running as well. The ship is waking up. A nice smell wafts through the corridor, a woody, leathery perfume for men that strikes me as familiar. The pink, mousey guy in front of me must have sprinkled himself with it.

A few doors before mine, the young man stops. “See you later,” he says.

“See you later,” I reply. When I pass behind him, I get a whiff a his pronounced citrus perfume, very fresh, very pungent. Oh. He’s not the source of the leathery perfume smell…

He turns the key and opens the door. “Mon chéri—are you awake?” he asks. The door closes behind him.

I was right. Mon chéri, not ma chérie. He is family. I’m not the only gay guy on this ship.

I walk to my door while rummaging in my shorts pockets. Let’s see… mobile… pencil… notepad… h-m. Where have I put my keys? Did I take them? Damn—don’t tell me I locked myself out…!

And then—

Suddenly—

A YELL. “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

I JUMP, turn around, gaze down the empty corridor. What was it? Who was it? Where was it? What am I supposed to do?

“MY GOD! MICHEL!”

Michel?

A bad feeling bubbles up in my guts.



For a longer excerpt, please visit my author page: http://dietermoitzi.com/till-death-do-us-part



About the Author






Born in the early 70s, I grew up in a little village in Austria. At the age of 18, I moved to Vienna to get my master’s degree in Political Sciences, French, and Spanish. Today, I’m living in Paris, France, with my boyfriend and work as a graphic designer. 

In my spare time, I write, read, cook fancy recipes, take photos, and as often as I can, I travel (Italy, Portugal, Morocco, Egypt, the UK, and many more places). My literary tastes are eclectic, ranging from fantasy, murder mysteries, gay romances to dystopian novels, but I won’t say no to poetry or a history book either. I’m more a hoodie/jeans/sneakers kind of guy than a suit-and-tie chap. 

So far, I’ve published two short-story collections as well as four poetry collections. My first murder mystery novel “The Stuffed Coffin” featuring Damien Drechsler and the dashing Greek student Nikos has been released on January 6, 2019 and is also available in German and French. The French version has won the prestigious French Gay Murder Mystery Award 2019 (Prix du roman policier – Prix du roman gay 2019). You can also find me on Rainbow Book Reviews, where I write book reviews under the pseudonym of ParisDude (for French reviews, have a look at my review site livresgay.fr).



Author Links














Review: My First, His Last by Fearne Hill

Seb has spent his university days hopelessly in love with one of his unattainable best friends. Sweet, kind and handsome, he has been too shy to admit his desires for other men. Finding himself living in London, alone and inexperienced, he turns to his friends to find him a suitable partner.

Happily running a small art gallery and juggling his hectic social whirl, smart, outgoing Kiefer doesn’t realise anything is missing from his love life until he is introduced at a dinner party to a gentle young man named Seb.

My First, His Last is a 10,000 word M/M romantic short story. It can be read as a stand-alone piece, although Seb and Kiefer are subsidiary characters from the Johnson Road trilogy, three full-length novels charting the lives and loves of a group of friends at university and beyond.


This is a really short tale about Seb and Kiefer from the Johnson Road Trilogy. I have not read any of those stories, but My First, His Last did it’s job and made me buy the first one so I could get more of these characters. And I’m not just talking about Seb and Keifer, but also the MC’s from Johnson Road, who were the secondarys in My First, His Last.

So. while this story starts while Seb and Kiefer are well on their way, the book starts with them on their first date, the author did a bang up job of giving me enough backstory organically so I didn’t feel completely lost and thrust into the middle of something and floundering through the pages. But, I will say I wanted more. There’s enough potential meat here to make a full length novel I would have loved to read.

The story reads very realistically romantic considering it’s length and I think you can really only get that feeling with fully fleshed out characters, which these two guys definitely were. Plus I was shown things as they evolved, there was little to no “telling” needed to get me up to speed.

The buildup of the dynamics between Seb and Kiefer is so well done and the honesty towards the end when they are together in Kiefer’s gallery is sublimely written. Kiefer’s struggles were real and Seb’s reaction was perfect, it was just such a perfectly beautiful scene, I’ll read this shorty again just to experience it one more time.



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

Book Blast: Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon by Andy V. Ambrose


Author Andy V. Ambrose and Gay Book Promotions host today's book blast for Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon from NineStar Press! Check it out!

BOOK BLAST
Book Title: Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon
Author: Andy V. Ambrose
Publisher: Nine Star Press
Cover Artist: Natasha Snow
Release Date: September 2, 2019
Genres: Contemporary, Literary/Genre Fiction
Theme: Older gay man searching for love
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 62 100 words/292 pages
It is a standalone story.
Warning: references to non-consensual situations, no HEA or HFN

Buy Links



Blurb

Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon recounts the adventures of Viktor, a fifty-year-old gay man in New York City trying to get back into the land of the living after the breakup of a twelve-year relationship. The novel examines the lives of a group of middle-aged gay men, exploring new facets of their sexuality while dealing with all the changes middle age brings.



Excerpt

SATURDAY AFTERNOON—FLOUNDERING

My erections aren’t what they used to be.

Well, Dr. S told me to write about the first thing that comes into my mind, so it’s what I’m doing. “Don’t think. Just write,” he said. “Stop censoring yourself, Viktor. This will help you in your therapy too, Viktor.”

Okay, okay. If that’s what the shrink ordered, let’s see if this works. We’re supposed to listen to our shrinks, right? That’s their job, right? They know how to get us out of whatever fucking funk we’re in, right?

So here we go. I’m writing about the first thing that comes to my mind and it’s my erections. Here it is, a lovely Saturday afternoon, sun shining, snow melting, spring a’coming, a perfect time to enjoy life. And what am I doing? Sulking in my apartment obsessing about my cock.

Hell of a problem to have on a day like today, isn’t it? Shit, be honest, Viktor. You’re supposed to be honest with this writing thing, aren’t you? That was Dr. S’s other directive, wasn’t it? Honesty. He was full of directives last session, wasn’t he? Oh well, maybe I need some directives.

So where was I? Oh yes. Gorgeous day, shitty mood, focusing on my cock when I should be enjoying life.

Oh, come on. It’s not just about my cock. I know that. After all, I did my share of screwing around when I was younger. Not that I was the biggest stud around in my heyday, but during those few glorious weeks my sex life got going, I learned how to have a good time. Yes, I did! But then I met Gio and fell in love. And he fell in love with me. And we had twelve years of bliss—more or less—until he left me last year.

“And I’ve been floundering ever since. Floundering? Ha! Flopping around is more like it. So I’ve been seeing Dr. S—ahem, Dr. Singsirinavin—I’ve been seeing him to help me out of this predicament. Seems like a nice enough guy, serious, quiet, with a scrawny body and a bit of an accent, though I’ll be damned if I know from where exactly. These shrinks never tell you anything about themselves, do they? I’ve been seeing Dr. S for a year already, and you would think by now I’d have an idea, but I don’t. To tell the truth, I don’t have much of an idea about anything, including whether he’s helping me.
But I’m trying. Goddamn it, I’m trying, you’ve got to give me that. Didn’t put all my eggs in one basket, either. Went to my primary-care guy too, to complain about my cock. Dr. Agnostulopolini. Different accent, different mystery country. Had to change doctors when my cheapo company switched insurances and I had to find someone new.

“And I’ve been floundering ever since. Floundering? Ha! Flopping around is more like it. So I’ve been seeing Dr. S—ahem, Dr. Singsirinavin—I’ve been seeing him to help me out of this predicament. Seems like a nice enough guy, serious, quiet, with a scrawny body and a bit of an accent, though I’ll be damned if I know from where exactly. These shrinks never tell you anything about themselves, do they? I’ve been seeing Dr. S for a year already, and you would think by now I’d have an idea, but I don’t. To tell the truth, I don’t have much of an idea about anything, including whether he’s helping me.

“And I’ve been floundering ever since. Floundering? Ha! Flopping around is more like it. So I’ve been seeing Dr. S—ahem, Dr. Singsirinavin—I’ve been seeing him to help me out of this predicament. Seems like a nice enough guy, serious, quiet, with a scrawny body and a bit of an accent, though I’ll be damned if I know from where exactly. These shrinks never tell you anything about themselves, do they? I’ve been seeing Dr. S for a year already, and you would think by now I’d have an idea, but I don’t. To tell the truth, I don’t have much of an idea about anything, including whether he’s helping me.
“But I’m trying. Goddamn it, I’m trying, you’ve got to give me that. Didn’t put all my eggs in one basket, either. Went to my primary-care guy too, to complain about my cock. Dr. Agnostulopolini. Different accent, different mystery country. Had to change doctors when my cheapo company switched insurances and I had to find someone new. He doesn’t know anything about me and doesn’t seem to care, either. Every time I ask a question, the side of his face twitches like he’s having a stroke. “Doctor,” I said last time, “my libido seems to have disappeared.”
“You know, it does fall off with age,” he says. Translation: you’re getting old.
“But not this suddenly, Doctor. Could it be the new blood pressure medicine you prescribed?” Translation: Fuck you. Don’t give me that you’re-getting-old shit. I’m fifty. That’s not old.”



About the Author
Andy V Ambrose grew up in the Boston area and moved to New York City after college. He worked in book publishing for many years, wearing many hats: Editorial, Copyediting, Proofreading, and Production. This is his first novel featuring Viktor, a fifty-year-old gay man trying to get back into the world of the living after the end of a twelve-year relationship. To relax, Andy loves to ride his bike, read, watch foreign and independent movies, and travel. He’s only made it to three continents so far but hopes to visit the rest soon. He lives in New York City.

Social Media Links




Blog Tour: The Pet and His Duke (Virasana Empire) by Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus


Welcome authors Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus who are joined by Other Worlds Ink to promote their new sci-fi romance, The Pet and His Duke. Find out more & read an excerpt too!


The Pet & His Duke - Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus



Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus has a new MM sci fi space opera romance out: "The Pet and His Duke."

Robert is a pet, a human pleasure slave, and well past his prime.


So when teenage Duke Thomar of Aylian buys him via mail order, Robert first suspects a dreadful misunderstanding. The duke is young, handsome and headstrong, and the very last thing he needs while struggling to secure his reign over his planet is an aging bargain bin pet by his side.

Only, the more time Robert spends with Thomar, the more he learns that the young duke rarely makes mistakes. Unless, of course, Thomar dashes off on one of his mad adventures, which Robert increasingly becomes a part of…


‘The Pet and his Duke’ is a standalone m/m romance novel in the ‘Virasana Empire’ universe. Written by Rainbow Book Award winners Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, it is a story of self-determination and love, and Happily-Ever-Afters in the most unlikely places.



Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | QueeRomance Ink | Smashwords | Goodreads




Excerpt

Robert looked up from his latest romance novel as the door to the Ducal Suite opened to admit his master.

He was seated in his armchair at the burning fireplace, huddled under a woollen blanket. Early autumn in the capital of Aylian was usually pleasantly mild, but this year had brought an uncomfortable chill to Toraskah.

Thomar had explained that this was a problem caused by the Eigenrealität-bubble of the Aliaerean Realms leaking through the demon portal above them, messing with the climate. Whatever that meant. Apparently someone very important named Lady Beverly was working hard on correcting the issue, but it was all very complicated and would not be fixed before this winter, which promised to actually bring snow to the capital, a rare occurrence indeed.

All Robert had understood was that it was fucking cold, would get even colder, and would stay that way for a few months.

Blinking somewhat owlishly through his reading glasses, Robert watched his master carry a huge bowl filled with various types of fruit over to him. Thomar was home from work early and that usually meant he was so fed up with his duties that he was only left with the choice to either walk out or start shooting people. However, his smile looked decidedly indecent and made Robert discount that theory.

Thomar placed the bowl of fruit on the low sidetable next to Robert's armchair. He pushed Robert's feet off the footstool and inappropriately settled himself there, smiling up at his pet.

Robert carefully took off his reading glasses and placed them on the table with his book. His master obviously wanted something, and as usual, Robert wasn't sure what it was.

"How was your day, my lord?“ he tried to gauge Thomar's mood.

"Pretty nice, actually.“ Thomar drew a vicious-looking N'Ptalini dagger from a concealed compartment in his left boot, picked up a lima fruit from the bowl and started peeling it. "I was stuck in a meeting between Bishop Claudius of the Belligra and demon Ambassador Brassion for the last three hours and got to listen to them yelling at each other while entirely ignoring me.“ He dropped the lima peel to the ground, cut a fillet out of the ripe fruit and noisily sucked it off his blade. „I don't think they have noticed that I left.“

"I see.“ It was of course exceedingly impolite for the Duke to slip away like that, but Thomar knew that perfectly well himself.

"So, I thought I'd come home and see how my favourite pet is doing.“ Thomar discarded the rest of the peeled lima and picked up a mango instead. Again his dagger went to work, this time with juice dripping over his fingers.

"I'm good, thank you, my lord,“ Robert replied politely. He was not sure where his master was leading with this seemingly innocent conversation.

"You do look a bit cold.“ Thomar eyed him thoughtfully, licking mango juice off his fingers. "I've been wondering if we should find someone to fix the palace’s central heating.“ He popped a piece of mango into his mouth and continued sucking on his fingers with obvious relish. "Not sure if it's worth the effort if the climate is fixed by next winter though.“

"I'm sure we can make do until then.“ It was kind of hard to concentrate on the conversation when his master was such a pleasant distraction.

"Yeah, you're probably right.“ Thomar discarded the half-eaten mango as well, along with the dagger, and started rummaging in the fruit bowl until he produced an already cut piece of melon. "And the cold has some advantages too, eh? Snuggled up under blankets, sharing warmth...“

Thomar bit into the piece. Melon juice ran down his chin and he spent some time mopping it up with his fingers and licking them clean.

Robert watched hypnotised. He was slowly getting an idea of what his master wanted but he felt it was safer to ask first. Only how to phrase that question?

"So... anything in particular I can do for you tonight, my lord?“ he finally asked, while Thomar picked up a handful of strawberries from the bowl.

"Hm... actually... yes.“ Thomar lasciviously licked the first fruit and bit off half of it. "You know... I enjoyed that afternoon on the first day of our vacation.“ He sucked the juice from the rest of the strawberry. "When you ordered me onto the bed and fucked me so hard I thought you'd split me in half.“

Robert gave an undignified, half-choked sound. Pounding his master hard while half-crazed with lust was one thing. Having his master talk about it and demand more of it was another thing altogether. Then again, Thomar was doing a great job of getting him to that half-crazed state again.

"You seem to need some inspiration...“ The next strawberry followed, this time including Thomar licking red juice off his lips with his terribly agile tongue.

By now, the blanket as well as the fire seemed way too hot for Robert's liking. He felt heat pool in his groin as Thomar grinned up at him, sinfully sexy in his black uniform and that innocent face with eyes that promised pleasure as far from innocent as possible.

"You think you can repeat that performance?“ Thomar asked, turning his attention back to the bowl of fruit.

This time he reached for a banana, but Robert's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could pick it up. Discarding any kind of careful considerations, Robert got to his feet and pulled his master against himself forcefully. He was rewarded with a breathless laugh full of delight. He covered Thomar's mouth in a demanding kiss and tasted the unexpected fruit cocktail with Thomar's own taste the cherry on top.




Author Bios

We are Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, a couple currently living our happily ever after in the very heart of Germany, under the stern but loving surveillance of our cat.

Both of us are voracious but picky readers, we love telling stories and drinking tea, good food and the occasional violent movie. Together, we write novels of adventure and romance, hoping to share a little of our happiness with our readers.

Beryll

An artist by heart, Beryll was writing stories even before she knew what letters were. As easily inspired as she is frustrated, her own work is never good enough (in her eyes). A perfectionist in the best and worst sense of the word at the same time and the driving creative force of our duo.

Osiris

An entertainer and craftsman in his approach to writing, Osiris is the down-to-earth, practical part of our duo. Broadly interested in almost every subject and skill, with a sunny mood and caring personality, he strives to bring the human nature into focus of each of his stories.

Author Website: http://www.brackhaus.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100011014541510

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

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6427435.Osiris_Brackhaus

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Osiris-Brackhaus/e/B00IVTRO2E


LOGO - Other Worlds Ink

Guest Post: Golden Valley (Pack #3) by Cardeno C.

A generous Alpha with a tragic past and a young Omega with hopes for the future overcome mistakes to heal a pack and find happiness together.

Life has thrown more than his fair share of challenges and losses at Alpha Morgan Peters. Despite his pain and disappointment, the shifter picks himself up and does right by his pack. As the years pass, Morgan establishes himself as a leader who is as kind as he is strong and Golden Valley prospers. But it isn't until an Omega shifter enters his life that Morgan sees hope for a future where he can be more than an Alpha.

When Psi Omega Ricky Marx goes to Golden Valley as a representative of his home pack, he is thrilled to find his mate—the beautiful, powerful Golden Valley Alpha. Unfortunately, their first meeting doesn't go well, and overwhelmed by his mistakes, Ricky sees no choice but to flee.

Morgan's past makes him struggle to absorb more loss. Ricky's youth makes him struggle to find his voice. But if these two shifters can overcome their challenges and come back together, they'll heal the Golden Valley pack and fulfill their destiny.



Review: Shee Reader

Cardeno C is one of my all time favourite authors. The writing is clever, funny, smart, generally low angst, sexy with The. Most. Perfect. HEAs. It is everything I am looking for in a book and this one is no exception.

It’s been a while since the last Cardeno C release so it could be an anti climax (there was a different story I’ve been hankering after but that one isn’t ready yet ;-) ) but this is a lovely sweet and sexy shifter MPreg story with a healthy dose of misunderstanding, running away and hiding and much longing for each other. Luckily, the HEA is satisfying and hope-filled which is usually the case for a CC book.

One of my favourite things about CC’s writing is that the main characters do eventually communicate with each other! The development of the relationship is fast with a fated-mate shifter story with oodles of insta-love and sexiness and in this one, a little baby! Aww the speed of the pregnancy did make my head spin, and I love CC’s take on the MPreg with the sensitive birthing skin.

This is a stand alone short novel or novella, but it does include characters from previous books in the same world. I really like the chance to catch up with characters I know and love, including Red River and Blue Mountain which are both lovely books filled with strong Alphas and sassy omegas.

Highly recommended escapist romance!

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




Release Blitz + Giveaway: Baking Battles (Scandinavian Comfort #3) by Sophia Soames


Join author Sophia Soames and Gay Book Promotions in celebrating the release of Baking Battles (Scandinavian Comfort #3)! Learn more about the standalone contemporary romance today!


RELEASE BLITZ
Book Title: Baking Battles (Scandinavian Comfort 3)
Author: Sophia Soames
Publisher: Self-published
Cover Artist: Christina Stern
Release Date: June 15, 2020
Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance
Trope/s: Bisexual awakening, Single Dad
Themes: Coming out, Parenting, Reality Baking show, Family.
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 82 500 words
It is a standalone story in the Scandinavian Comfort series.
Scandinavian Comfort is a series of standalone novels set in Scandinavia, sharing the common theme of Hygge. Hygge is a Danish word that is impossible to translate into a single English word. It's a concept of finding happiness in the small things, of towing the middle line instead of always aiming for the top and finding joy in your home and sharing time with your family. In Scandinavia you will find that especially Friday evenings are often seen as Hygge time, where families eat favourite foods, light candles and watch a movie, preferably whilst wearing slippers and pyjamas. Another Scandinavian word that is very fitting to this series is the Swedish word Lagom, meaning 'not too little, not too much’. Just right. This sums up the Scandinavian people in a nutshell.
Live your life well. Not too little, not too much.

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Are you brave enough to stay? Or strong enough to walk away?
Blurb

Mattias Strømme's life is a recipe for disaster. He is a single dad of a 2-year-old, has an ex-wife who scares him, and a job in finance where he scares everyone else. And now he has been dragged in as a last-minute filler contestant on Baking Battles, the hit reality baking show. Mattias can't bake. He can barely dress himself in the morning, and he definitely hasn't got the skills to charm the viewing public, or the wannabe celebs who make up the rest of the show's contestants. He's not a nice person. He's just... nothing. Mattias left his wife when life became unbearable for him and he fell apart. Now, when he is suddenly drowning in a mess of rumours, male supermodels, and unicorn glitter? Will Mattias be brave enough to stay? Or strong enough to walk away?



Excerpt

“Mattias, I’m in fucking deep shit, mate.” Danijel grits out between his teeth as the glass door to his own office slams shut behind them. He’s a small man, slim with some muscle definition showing under his fitted shirt, which is usually immaculate, but today there are patches of sweat forming under his arms, and his closely shaved black hair is getting frequent swipes from Danijel’s hands, a clear sign that something is bothering him.

“What now? I thought everything was going smoothly? Baking Battles is still well under budget, so financially there is nothing to worry about, unless there is a lawsuit brewing that you are about to hit me with.”

Mattias crosses his arms over his chest. He may have spent years taking shit from Sara, but he’s never been a pushover at work. He knows his shit. So does Danijel.

“Please tell me that you can bake.” Danijel almost whispers. “You brought that chocolate tray thing in a few months back when we had the Hygge-Fridays thing going on? Please tell me it didn’t come out of a packet?”

“It didn’t come out of a packet. Who do you think I am? I’m the master of the chocolate tray bake.” Mattias says cockily. Danijel is clearly in some deep shit. Sweat now pouring down his temples.

He should probably mention that Emilia had drooled in the batter and that the traybake he had brought in was his third attempt, and that the mess he had left behind in the kitchen, sparked off one of the worst screaming arguments he and Sara had ever had. He left a week later. It hadn’t been good. That damn cake brought nothing good with it.

“Mattias, we start filming tomorrow at ten, and we are three contestants down. I am officially pulling you in.”

“What?” Mattias shrieks. “It’s a celebrity special. Who the fuck am I supposed to be?”

“You do that finance segment every year on ‘Good Morning Norway’? You know the ’How to do your tax return?’ thing you did? And... and… You did that thing last week, you know when you talked about how to budget for Christmas without getting into debt? You definitely qualify as a celeb. We will just call you a Morning TV financial expert. Close enough. And anyway, everyone loves a bigwig trying his hand at being normal or some shit? Putting your money where your mouth is, or whatever? Getting down with the underdog? Showing your human side? I haven’t got a clue how we will spin it. That’s PR’s role. They will make it work, if you do this. And, Mattias, you are perfect. You are grumpy and impatient and have a fucking temper on you. It will make fantastic TV. The other good thing is that you won’t have a clue who all the other contestants are, so you won’t give a rat’s arse about pegging them down a notch or two, will you? It will be awesome.”

Danijel is chewing on his thumb. Rocking on his heels.

“No. Fucking. Way.” Mattias groans. “Hell no.”

“Why the hell not? You are single, and the girls will be hanging off you. Celeb status guaranteed. Pussy on tap. What’s not to love?”

“Everything Danijel! Every fucking thing! For a start, I can’t bake.”

“That Chocolate tray bake was edible?” Danijel is smiling now.

“I look like shit.”

“You are a handsome devil. Let someone dress you and get a haircut. Shave. Sorted.”

“I’ve got a reputation to protect. I’ll be the fucking laughingstock of the station!”

“People will love you. Profits through the roof. Spin-off series. I have a clear vision in my head.”

Yeah. Danijel is on drugs. Clearly. Standing there with his arms spread out and a dreamy look in his eyes.

“No, Danijel. Not happening. Baking Battles is this station’s number one show, our main cash cow, and we have been seeding this Celebrity special for months. We can’t just throw random contestants in and expect to pull it off. The public will see right through it. It’s desperate, and it’s unprofessional.” Mattias turns around letting his hand rest on the door handle. He is leaving. He is not getting drawn into this.

“Alima said yes.” Danijel says. His shit-eating grin wider than his face.

“Alima?” Mattias’s hand grips the door handle tighter. “Your sister can’t even peel a potato. She feeds her kids microwave meals and thinks it’s gourmet cooking. She’s going on Baking Battles as a contestant? You are kidding, right?”

Danijel’s pushing it here. Alima is his oldest friend. Well, the only friend that has stuck by him throughout his whole divorce mess. She lives life like she is some kind of hardcore Superwoman, and Mattias bloody adores her. She’s also married with a million kids and works full time, and has never baked a cake in her life. He knows that, for a fact.

“Dead serious, Mattias. She owes me one, and anyway someone has to get voted off in the first episode. She doesn’t give a shit, and we are marketing her as the Norwegian ice-hockey team’s physician, which isn’t a lie.”

“She treated their reserve goalie for a sprained ankle. Once.” Mattias whines into his hands. “Danijel, what the hell are you doing? This is crazy?”

“I have no choice Mattias. Amelia Hammerdahl had to pull out with the cocaine scandal that broke on Friday. Trond Pedersen is up for a fucking embezzling charge, and that rapper we were pinning our hopes on? Pregnant. Couldn’t stop puking through the test filming yesterday. We can’t use her, it is just awful. “Danijel actually looks a bit green himself. “So, we are down to Pablo from ‘Say Yay to the Gay’, Ida Sagnefjord from ‘Frognerfruer’, Paulina Sætermark, the news anchor from ‘Dagsrevyen’…”

“And not Mattias Strømme, a boring CFO,” Mattias says firmly. “Forget it, Danijel. It’s stupid, immoral and downright illegal. We are deceiving the public, lying and betraying the trust of the brand. Get yourself on the phone to casting downstairs. I am sure we have some D-list celeb just dying to make a spectacle of themselves on TV over Christmas.”

He walks out the door letting it slam hard behind him. Fucking hell, Danijel.

Mattias’s life is peaceful and quiet, his job rewarding and fulfilling. His daughter is the love of his life.

He doesn’t need this.

It’s eight weeks until Christmas. Four weeks until “Baking Battles, The Celebrity Christmas Special” will premiere in time for the December festive period. Eight mouth-watering spectacular episodes full of Christmas cheer, home-made flavours and quirky heart-warming mistakes by clueless celebrities, showing their human side. Christmas cakes. Fucking gingerbread houses. And fruitcakes… not just of the baked variety.

He’s not going anywhere near it. Nope. Not happening.




About the Author
Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV-shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.
Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.
She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.
Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever and she hopes it may long continue.
About the Cover Artist
Christina Stern is a Russian based artist. Quick sketches and portraits drawn in pencil are what she likes to do the most. Her work can be found on @christinastern on Instagram

Social Media Links


Blog Tour + Giveaway: Kings of the Mountain by Morgan Brice


Morgan Brice and Gay Book Promotions visit on the Kings of the Mountain blog tour! Find out more about the urban fantasy friends to lover tale and enter in the giveaway to win one of three back list eBooks from the author!

BLOG TOUR
Book Title: Kings of the Mountain
Author: Morgan Brice
Cover Artist: Natania Barron
Release Date: May 21, 2020
Genre/s: Urban Fantasy, MM paranormal romance
Trope/s: Hurt/comfort, mutual pining, friends-to-lovers,
childhood best friends, second chance
Themes: coming of age, forgiveness for self and others,
crush maturing into love, letting go of guilt, family
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 63 000 words/238 pages
It’s the first in a new series

Buy Links


Blurb

Fast cars. Outlaw country boys. Snarky werewolves, vengeful ghosts, and menacing monsters.

Dawson King’s family has been hunting things that go bump in the night in Transylvania County, North Carolina, since before the Revolutionary War.

Dawson was never happier than when he was racing his souped-up Mustang along winding mountain roads and hunting monsters with his best friend, Grady. Then Grady fell in love with him, which should have been perfect since Dawson had already fallen hard for Grady.

But Grady was only seventeen, and Dawson feared that sooner or later, Grady would realize his feelings were just a first crush, and then he’d be gone, leaving Dawson devastated. They both needed space to figure things out. So Dawson joined the army, while Grady stayed on the mountain.

Four years later, Dawson is coming home. He’s more sure than ever Grady is his forever love, and they’ve both agreed to begin this new aspect of their relationship as soon as Dawson gets back.

Then Grady’s father is killed in a werewolf hunt gone wrong. Grady is devastated, and he’s throwing mixed signals about moving forward. Dawson knows he needs to hold off on this new thing between them until Grady has time to grieve. But monsters never sleep, and one hunt after another throws Dawson and Grady into constant danger, while tension and unresolved feelings ripple between them.

Making it even harder, Dawson’s got a secret. He’s dreamed of death omens—which point to something stalking Grady. Can Dawson figure out who’s trying to kill Grady, save his life, and win back his heart?

Plenty of mutual pining, hurt/comfort, spooky chills, sexy thrills, and a very happy ending. The Kings of the Mountain is the first novel in the series. It is a MM romance intended for readers 18 years of age and older.



Excerpt

“Dude, you can’t keep me hanging for over an hour until we get home. Please.” Dawson didn’t care about begging. He needed to know what had happened, so he could figure out what to do when he got there.

Colt slid him a sidelong glance and relented. “If I tell you, you’ve got to keep Uncle Denny from whupping my ass, because he told me not to.”

“You know I will.”

Colt tightened his grip on the wheel, his knuckles bone-white and kept his eyes on the road, a convenient way to avoid looking at Dawson. “We’ve had some problems with rogue werewolves and feral shifters lately. They like our neck of the woods because it’s remote. If they didn’t bother anyone, we might have let it ride. But there’ve been livestock kills and some attacks on people that just barely got pushed back.”

“How did you know you’ve got weres and shifters?” Dawson fell back into hunting mode out of old habit.

“It’s that time of the month,” Colt replied with a smirk. “Seriously? The weres are only out the three days of the full moon. You know this shit—did you forget it all while you were gone?”

Dawson flinched. “Just confirming. Didn’t want to assume.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you made an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me.’” Colt’s smile faded. “Anyhow, we’ve all been out trying to track down one particular werewolf. He didn’t stay in the forest and feed off the deer. If he had, no one would have bothered him. Kept coming near towns, snatching farm animals. Grady and Aaron thought they’d figured out a pattern and guessed where he’d strike next. So they did a stakeout.”

Dawson found he was holding his breath. He had an awful feeling about how this was going to go.

“They were right,” Colt continued, his voice flat. “The werewolf got the drop on Aaron. Grady shot the wolf—silver to the heart—but he’d already bit Aaron.”

“Fuck.”

“Aaron begged Grady to shoot him. Grady refused. Grady also wouldn’t just leave his gun and walk away.”

“He knew how it had to end,” Dawson said quietly, his voice thick with sorrow for both Grady and Aaron.

Colt shrugged. “Maybe he needed more than a few seconds to be okay with killing his father.” At Dawson’s wince, Colt relented. “Sorry. I don’t know what happened to Aaron’s gun; he probably lost it when he got jumped. Anyhow, Aaron went for Grady’s gun, and in the struggle, it went off. Killed Aaron. Grady walked home, covered in blood, and told Uncle Denny what happened. Denny took care of the body.”

“Jesus,” Dawson murmured. “What did they tell the cops?”

“Sheriff Rollins knew about the rogue were. He had his men out looking for it, too. So what went down could have happened to anyone.”

At least no one was going to jail. That was a small comfort. “What about Knox?”


About the Author
Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.
On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.
Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!

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