Book Tour and #Giveaway: Poster Boy by @AnneTenino ~ @RiptideBooks


Welcome to the Poster Boy Blog Tour! *confetti*

As you may or may not know, Poster Boy is the fifth in the Theta Alpha Gamma series, and (at least as far as I’m able to be sure about such things) the last TAG book. No, no, don’t be sad, be happy—we’re gonna go out in style!


Let’s discuss the nitty-gritty: the Blog Tour Giveaway. The prize package this time includes: one lovely “Theta Alpha Gamma Beer Terrorist Response Team” sweatshirt (I believe I have sizes M-XXL available, choice of two styles); one paperback copy of Frat Boy and Toppy with the new cover art, signed and inscribed to the winner; a bar of soap I bought in Les Baux (was going to send olives from Sainte-Remy, but we ate them . . . sorry about that) and; of course, one penis crocheted by moi.


How does one win, you ask? By following the tour, collecting all the official “prize” words (posts will have them clearly marked), and using them as directed at the end of this post (it’s complicated).

Happy word hunting, and enjoy the tour (psssssst, this one is heavy on the cut scenes).

* * *

imagePoster Boybuy link.

It’s all fun and games until someone puts his heart out.

When Jock meets sexy grad student Toby at a frat party, things finally start looking up. After having been outed to his hockey team and then changing schools, he figures he’s due something good—like the sex he missed out on in the closet. Toby seems like a great place to start, and their night together is an awesome introduction to the fine art of hooking up.

Toby’s heart takes a bruising after the near-perfect experience with Jock leads to . . . nothing. He’s been left on the outside as his friends pair up into blissful coupledom, and he’s in danger of never completing (or starting) his thesis. Can’t something go right?

Then Toby’s coerced into chaperoning a Theta Alpha Gamma trip to France. Not that he’s complaining. What better place to finish his thesis and get over that frat boy? Except Jock’s outing is leaked to the press, making him an unwilling gay rights martyr, and he decides France is a great escape, too. It’s a break from reality for both guys, but they soon find their connection is as real as it gets.


* * *

It’s not a spoiler for me to tell you that Toby and Jock get together for a one-nighter before they go to France together, right? I mean, it’s in the blurb and all.

Okay, good, because this outtake is a post-coital one, after Jock and Toby hook up in Toby’s apartment. You see, Toby has this roommate, Larry the Breeder. I think the best way to describe him is from the book (not an outtake, in case you wondered)—“Larry always tried to talk to the guys Toby was with, but the way he did it had the air of someone trying to communicate with a remote and undereducated tribe of savages, asking probing questions that he assumed they’d find inoffensive. Larry was working on his master’s in social anthropology, and Toby had begun to suspect he was writing a thesis on the mating habits of The Geighs.”

In the final version of the book, Toby alludes to Larry “bringing a girl home,” but let me tell you, there was a whole (cut) scene encompassed in PosterBoy_150x300that single, partial sentence. And here, for your reading pleasure, is said scene:


Noises woke Jock up. Other people’s voices, filtering through the wall, a guy and a girl. Giggling and talking. Toby had roommates, right? He’d said something about that. Jock drifted off again, but a few minutes later a moan jerked him back to consciousness.

Then a rhythmic creaking started up.

“Jesus,” Toby mumbled. “Larry brought home a lively one tonight.”

So, he had a straight roommate? It shouldn’t matter, but it made him itchy inside. Kind of the same itchy that intellectual guys used to make him feel. He turned his head on the pillow to see Toby blinking at him in the moonlight, trying to decide when he’d stopped having that reaction.

Except it had started again. “Where are your glasses?”

Toby yawned and rolled onto his back. “In the pocket of my sweatshirt, why?”

“Dunno.” Jock shrugged. “Just wondered.” He flinched when he heard something hit the wall, then a particularly loud, male moan. “So, your roommate’s bedroom is next to yours.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Toby mumbled, eyes closed again. “Don’t worry, he never lasts longer than five minutes, and he did that last month so chances are it’ll be less.” At least that’s what Jock thought he said, but he couldn’t hear him that clearly over the screeching springs next door.

“So, like, he put his bed right up against the same wall.” Did he listen to Toby? Had he been here earlier?

Toby snorted. “I guess you could say we have a bit of a rivalry.” He gave up on trying to sleep, raising a brow at Jock, smirking slightly. “Wanna go head-to-head?”


Toby looked at him a long moment. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little competitive when it comes to Larry the Breeder—“

“That’s your roommate?” The one they could hear grunting repeatedly?

Toby scowled toward the noises, then nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, we spend a fair amount of time trying to one-up each other. It’s like a nuclear-sex arms race.” He grimaced. “It’s not very attractive is it? He and I may need to negotiate a non-proliferation agreement or something.” Toby propped his head up on his hand, frowning. Then he punched the wall when a particularly loud thump startled them both.

Jock snorted. “I don’t think you need to worry about proliferating unless you start bringing home girls.” Toby smiled at him, until he went on, having to speak louder over the increasing noise in the next room. “But no, I can’t say I’m interested in being another missile in your silo or whatever.”

Toby reached across the foot or so of mattress that separated them and stroked Jock’s arm, expression very serious. “That’s not how I think of you. You’re not a notch on my bedpost.”

Jock froze. What did that mean, exactly? This wasn’t a one-night thing? That’s what he’d thought, but Toby was looking at him seriously, squeezing his biceps, as if waiting for Jock to respond somehow. Oh this isn’t awkward or anything.

“I’m coming!” Larry yelled through the wall. “Oh, yes! Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuck!”

Saved by the breeder.

“So we hear, but thanks for confirming it,” Toby hollered back. “I’ll put it on my calendar—you made it over four minutes that time.”

The distinctive sound of a fist hitting plaster was followed by a “Fuck you.”

Toby scowled and flipped off the next room.

“You didn’t seriously time him, did you?” Jock asked.

Toby smirked. “No, but he thinks I did.”

“I don’t think your treaty negotiations with Larry the Breeder are going to work out very well.”


* * *

For those of you playing to win the blog tour prize cache, here’s the word: sweet.

The word game—the rules are that I provide a bunch of words, and you have to create an ode to testicles. Hey, it’s fair—I gave you an ode to testicles in the book (well, part of one), you should give me one in return, using all the words from the tour. You may add any other words you need to, but it must include every word I gave out on the tour.

Of course, creative cheating might receive a pass from me . . .

At the end of the tour, send your ode to me at anne @ and I will choose one lucky winner from all the entries I receive by paying one of my children some exorbitant amount to draw an ode out of a hat (or other handy receptacle). All masterpieces must be to me by May 4th, 2014 at midnight Pacific Daylight Time (GMT -7:00). For a schedule of all tour stops, you can go here.

Oh, and:

*If the winner will be at GRL, GayRomance Northwest or the RT Booklover’s Convention, I’m also offering a lunch with me. And yes, I’ll pay. 😉

Click link to enter>> a Rafflecopter giveaway


* * *

About the Author

Raised on a steady diet of Monty Python, classical music and the visual arts, Anne Tenino was—famously—the first patient diagnosed with Compulsive Romantic Disorder. Since that day, Anne has taken on conquering the M/M world through therapeutic writing. Finding out who those guys having sex in her head are and what to do with them has been extremely liberating.

Anne’s husband finds it liberating as well, although in a somewhat different way. Her two daughters are mildly confused by Anne’s need to twist Ken dolls into odd positions. However, other than occasionally stealing Ken1’s strap-on, they let Mom do her thing without interference.

Wondering what Anne does in her spare time? Mostly she lies on the couch, eats bonbons and shirks housework.

Check out what Anne’s up to now by visiting her site.

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1 Comment

  1. Reblogged this on BookLover62 and commented:
    Great scent outtake!



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