Snow and Secrets (Stanford Creek #3) by Rozenn Scott {@RJScott_author} #Giveaway

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image3Snow and Secrets
Stanford Creek
Book Three
Rozenn Scott

Genre: Gay Romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: 12/1/2016

ISBN: 978-1-943576-87-6
ASIN: B01N3LC2EG

Word Count: 46000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

blurbFirst comes trust, then love… then the fight to stay alive.

Stanford Creek, Book 3

Pop star Tyler Hart is desperate for peace after a humiliating public scandal. It seems like Stanford Creek may well be the place to lay low. After all, it worked for his friends and former bandmates, Cody and Danny. He borrows a cabin and settles in for a quiet Christmas…well, not quite.

Garrett Campbell is on the run. Wounded in the line of duty, he escapes to the only place he feels safe, Stanford Creek and his brother’s cabin. Only he doesn’t realize he’ll have a roommate, and a sexy one at that.

Amid snow falls and winter winds, passion burns bright. When danger threatens to follow Garrett, he has to decide whether to run again before his secrets could kill him and the man of his dreams.

ARe Amazon Kobo

excerpt“Ty? Ty? Earth to Ty?”
Ty snapped back to the here and now at the insistent use of his name. He clung to the words and looked at Garrett, aware he was close to the edge. “Sorry? Was miles away,” he excused himself.
“Yeah, anyway,” Garrett said, and straightened. “It’s okay, you don’t have to find anywhere else. I have a bed in town with my cousin if I need it, I can be out of your hair in a bit.”
“No, you don’t have to,” Ty blurted out, and wished he’d thought about what he was going to say before he said it as Garrett raised an eyebrow in question. Apparently, he didn’t want to be alone, because if he was on his own today he might just sit in a corner and cry, or stare into space and worry. At least with another person in the room, one who looked at him so closely, he would have to pretend everything was okay and then he might even believe it. Hell, having Zach watch him so closely was the only way he kept sane at home.
“It’s okay,” Garrett said with the softest of smiles. “You didn’t sign up for a roommate.”
“No,” he said quickly, not wanting Garrett to get the wrong idea and to leave. “I’m used to sharing. Twins! I’m a twin…” Okay, now he was rambling.
“I know,” Garrett said. He crossed his hands over his broad chest. What did that mean? Was his body language telling Ty to back off? All Ty was getting from that was the fact that Garrett was strong and muscled and sexy and all kinds of imposing. Possibly even a little scary, but that didn’t make Ty worry, instead it made him feel like he was on the right side of Garrett, that Garrett could be strong and scary for him, and not just at him.
God, I’m not even making sense to myself now. He probably thinks I’m a fucking idiot.
He cleared his throat. “It might be nice to have the company.”
“It would,” Garrett said, and smiled at him, the smile was hopeful, agreeing, perfect.
“Okay, so let’s start again.” Ty extended his hand again. “Tyler Hart, call me Ty.”
Garrett took his hand. “Garrett Campbell.”
“I’m a singer dancer whatever,” Ty said with a shrug. “With a need to escape the paparazzi after someone decided it was a good idea to release a video of me getting a blowjob from a guy in a bathroom.”
“I know,” Garrett said, but he didn’t release the hand. He was suddenly stern and serious, looking like he was moments away from smacking someone, and Ty wished he’d let go of his hand. “Justin told me what happened. Bastard,” he added, with feeling.
“Did you watch it?” Ty blurted, and wasn’t sure where that came from.
Garrett frowned. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t judge you, guys watch porn.” Ty couldn’t understand why he wasn’t letting this go. Why was he pushing, because the last thing he wanted was for Garrett to have watched the damn video.
“That was violation of privacy, not my definition of porn,” Garrett snapped, angrily and without hesitation.
Intensity marked Garrett’s expression. Apart from Zach, Ty hadn’t had anyone so viscerally defensive and pissed off about the whole thing. Ty’s tension shifted, no longer shaky inside but almost settled, and for a moment he felt like old-Ty. The Ty that could handle anything thrown at him. Ty who was happy most of the time, and didn’t feel like his heart would leap out of his chest in fear every single day.
“Not enough pool boys for you?” Ty deadpanned. It felt good to be able to laugh at this, like it was an event that happened a long time ago, something he’d come to terms with
Garrett’s expression went from stone serious to smirking, then he frowned. “Or pizza deliveries.” He looked like he was seriously contemplating this.
“Oh God, you’re watching the same porn as me,” Ty laughed. And then he stopped, and knew he was going scarlet. He didn’t know Garrett from a complete stranger, yet they were exchanging reviews of the kind of porn that was out there.
Garrett turned serious again, but not deadly focused, just enough that Ty believed what he said next. “I didn’t watch the video, Ty, but I read enough comments to see why you’d need a bolt hole.”
“Okay.” Because what else could Ty say to that?
“Anyway, that’s enough about you being a musical genius who gets blowjobs in bathrooms. I’m Garrett Campbell, middle sibling and younger brother to Justin whose place this is, and older brother to Megan who is marrying your friend Cody.” He said all that in one breath and then nodded, like that summed up his entire life.
“I’ve heard about you,” Ty said, and finally released his hand, awkwardly stuck between wanting to hold Garrett’s hand and to pretend he didn’t like the warm, solid hold. “You’re the brother who works sales or something.” Although that assessment was broad. He’d also been told Garrett worked a lot overseas, and that Cody and Danny were convinced he was a secret agent or something.
“Yep, career of my dreams. You hungry?”
Ty paused at the change in subject. He’d been so determined to get here that he hadn’t eaten since last night on the plane from LAX, and it was nearly lunch time. He wasn’t hungry but he knew he had to eat, because Zach told him he couldn’t stop eating. “Yeah.”
“Omelet? Bacon, mushroom?”
That sounded good, and he didn’t feel nauseous at the thought of it. Ty settled firmly onto the stool and rested on the counter. “Please.”
“If you want to get a shower or anything, bathroom is the door in the middle, plenty of hot water at the moment and I can wait on lunch for a while.”
Ty hadn’t even considered a shower, but abruptly it seemed like the most perfect idea possible.
“Five minutes?” he asked.
“Take your time, I’ll prep and then cook when you get out.”
bio

RJ Scott is the bestselling author of over ninety romance novels and novellas. From cowboys to millionaires, SEALS to cops, her stories are passionate, sexy, and always come with a guaranteed happy ever after. RJ also writes as Rozenn Scott for her new line of strong men and women who find that it’s always worth overcoming obstacles to find a forever love.

RJ lives just outside of London, and has never met a bottle of wine she can’t defeat. For more information on other books by RJ/Rozenn, visit her website:

http://www.RJScott.co.uk

http://twitter.com/RJScott_author

https://www.facebook.com/RJScottAuthor/

https://www.facebook.com/rozennscott/

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Once You Go Demon by Sean Michael – Book Tour and #Giveaway @SeanMichael09

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image1Once You Go Demon

Sean Michael

Genre: Gay Paranormal Romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: 11/1/2016

ISBN: 9781945193668

Word Count: 50000

Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter

blurbThere’s a shift of power happening in Hell, and nothing will ever be the same.

Kerr has been with high demon Horatio’s household since his age of majority. A natural submissive pleasure demon, for the last seven years he has been untouched by his master Horatio and his job has morphed into a more managerial role. Still, it’s a shock when goons from Master Belial’s house arrive at his doorstep to inform him he’s been sold and his new master expects him to come immediately.

Lost by Horatio in a card game, Kerr finds himself in the Belial household, where Ceris, Master of the Harem, takes Kerr under his wing. Kerr is not only honored and used as he was made to be, but he is given a newly acquired demon, Harmony, as his own to train. The three pleasure demons have a rocky start together, but they have all the time in Hell to figure out how to work together and it isn’t long before they begin to care for one another.

Meanwhile, Belial has waited for thousands of years for Horatio to admit that he’s actually a submissive. When it appears that is never going to happen, Belial arranges for his best friend to lose a card game in which he’s offered himself as the prize. Horatio can’t believe Belial would do this for him, but the council puts their seal of approval on the bet, and he has no choice but to offer himself to Belial, who immediately gets to work convincing Horatio that he’ll be so much happier as Belial’s sub.

Will Kerr and Horatio find joy in their places in the Belial household? Only time will tell.

ARe

excerpt

Kerr stared at the paper that the incredibly well-dressed goons at the door handed him.

Sold?

Him?

He’d been sold into Horatio Liverage’s house to act as the man’s submissive since he was of maturity, and now, after so long, Horatio had sold him without a word? Without a note?

Nonsense.

Utter nonsense.

“There must be a mistake.”

The goon pointed one clawed finger at the insignia at the bottom of the page. “What does that signify?”

“Horatio Liverage.” He couldn’t deny it was his master’s seal.

“Then there isn’t a mistake. Bring us Kerr, and we’ll be on our way.” The teeth on the guy doing the talking brooked no argument. Neither did the tufts of smoke coming out of Silent and Scary’s ears.

“I’m Kerr. I have to gather my things, make arrangements…” Right? Didn’t he get that much at least?

The lower demon looked at the contract again. “It doesn’t say anything about belongings here. Let’s go.”

“I have precious things that hold my family name, and it doesn’t say that I can’t bring them. I am not resisting, simply gathering my stuff.” He could bargain with the best of them. He knew he had to convince them, though, as either one of them could pick him up and toss him over a shoulder without even trying.

Henchman One turned to Henchman Two, who shrugged.

“Is your master here? He can decide.”

“He is not. He’s away. As such, I am second in charge of the household.” He held no illusions that he was beloved or even a lover, but he was well-trusted with finances and with all aspects of Horatio’s life. “I shall return in moments.”

He began to pack—the stash of jewels that he had been collecting for years, his few precious books, his favorite clothes, and the music and computer that were his. He grabbed his toiletries, the hologram of his sire and dam, and the fragile glass orb that throbbed with a sweet, gentle light.

Both goons were frowning when he came back, pushing the palette of his things.

“We won’t be party to you stealing from your master.”

“I haven’t stolen a thing. These things are my own and now go with me to my new master.” Fuckers. Horatio might be able to sell him on a whim, but these were his possessions and they were going with him.

They looked at each other again, shrugged, and turned, heading down the walk toward the truck at the end of it. “We’re not toting anything,” the talker called back over his shoulder.

“Not yet,” he muttered.

He wasn’t some pointless goon. He was a highly trained, highly useful sexual submissive and house servant. Soon he would find a place with whomever the fuck the asshole prick that never made love to him anyway, dickhead, had sold his papers to, and then this mouth breather would do what Kerr said.

The goon opened the back door and just stood there, watching him putting his things in. “You’re riding back there, too.”

“Thank you so much.” He rolled his eyes, pushed his hair behind his ears, and climbed in, telling himself that he wasn’t hurt, that he was nothing but property, that he shouldn’t cry. One day, that might even work.

The door closed with a loud clang, leaving him in the dark, the engine starting up moments later. The truck lurched forward, sending him falling onto his ass.

He did cry then, silently, heartbroken. He’d lost his home, his job, his master, and no one had so much as warned him. Someone had written up that paperwork, someone had made the arrangements, and someone had thrown him away.

He couldn’t believe Horatio had done this to him, and without any warning at all, not a word to him.

The truck stopped abruptly, the brakes squeaking loudly. The door opened again, the dull grey sky seeming bright after the darkness of the truck.

Two little slaves popped up into the back and began grabbing his stuff.

He lifted his chin and firmed his lips. He was well-trained, valuable. Special in his own right. Men begged to be wealthy enough to own him.

“Come, come,” murmured one boy, motioning for him to get down from the truck and follow. He couldn’t see the two goons. “You’re going to be in the salle, honored one. Your groom is Ceris, and he is the Salle Master.”

Finally, someone realized how important he was, what his stature was, even if he was a slave.

bio

Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used bookstores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.

Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.

For more information on other books by Sean, visit www.seanmichaelwrites.com

http://twitter.com/SeanMichael09

https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWrites

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/452671.Sean_Michael

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Light a Rocket by Julia Talbot – Book Tour and #Giveaway @JuliaTalbot

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image1Light a Rocket

Midnight Rodeo 4

Julia Talbot

Genre: Gay, Paranormal, Romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: 11/1/2016

ISBN: 978-1-945193-15-6

Word Count: 20000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

 

blurbLove is possible when the spirits move you.

Skinwalker Raven Walkingman is the number one cowboy, at the top of his game at the Darque and Knight rodeo. He has his animal spirit guides, good friends, and a fancy trailer. Raven prefers casual relationships, so when Rocket starts talking about mating as shifters do, Raven pulls up the stakes. He doesn’t need to fall for a ragtag cheetah.

Cat shifter Rocket is fast, but he only has so many lives left, and he spends more time injured than not. He’s the worst rider at Darque and Knight. Raven’s spirit guides adore him, though, and are more than happy to support him in his work and pursuit of Raven.

Raven and Rocket seem like an unlikely match, and sometimes it takes an otherworldly guide to make it right.

ARe

 

excerpt

Watching Rocket run on the little track at the now-defunct high school turned rodeo complex in… Crap. Kansas? Nebraska? Somewhere with corn. Watching that gave Raven a hell of an itch to scratch.

The little bastard was fast—no. Not fast. Breathtaking.

That speed glued Raven’s tongue to the roof of his mouth, and he wasn’t used to such an intense interest in a particular man.

Raven just needed to fuck Rocket into the mattress a few times. That would jostle this obsession out of him, get him back into his love-them-and-leave-them ways.

His dick told him he could do that right now, thanks.

Raven stared, fascinated by the way Rocket’s muscles moved, shifted, and rolled beneath the golden skin. He wanted to lick that flesh, wanted to rub against it. All of the spirits clamoring in his head agreed.

Rocket slowed, beginning to move alongside Blaine, the little bullfighter matching Rocket’s speed. The two of them were a pretty picture, and Raven gave up any pretense of working out, stopping to stare.

Denver chuckled softly, surprising him. “They can move, huh? All that work and they still want to run afterward. I just want a fucking beer.”

“No shit.” Raven did like Denver. A lot. “Pretty, though.”

“Both of them. You gonna play some?”

“Well, not with your Blaine.” He winked when Denver growled. “But yeah. I am.”

“Never heard anyone complain, honey.” Denver winked. “Of course, you and I never did get around to trying each other out.”

“And now you’re all taken.” He shook his head in mock sorrow. Denny and him, they would have ended up bruised and bloody and only done it once. Might have been worth it, though.

Denver’s smile was slow and wicked. “Pity for you, King Raven. I’d have made you beg for more.”

Blaine began to head over, the little wolf sensitive as all fuck. He could probably sense the vibrations of Denver’s cock or something. God knew the hot bastard was tossing off pheromones left and right.

“Mmm. No one has ever made me beg, Green.” He loved the kitty cavalcade nickname for Denver.

“No?” Denver grabbed him, squeezed him tight, and the embrace was fond and warm, only the slightest bit sexual. “Have fun tonight, man. Don’t break him. I sorta think Blaine’s fond.”

“I’ll only give him what he wants. I don’t do force.” Raven hugged back, smelling wolf scent and pot smoke and a deep sense of happiness in Denny.

So much more present than Dent had been.

The thought of the fallen bullfighter brought his wolf spirit to full focus, though, the need to comfort Denny instinctual. Losing a twin had to be like getting part of your soul torn out.

Denny looked at him, eyes knowing for a moment and the sudden wave of loss nearly knocked him off his feet, then Blaine touched Denver’s arm and it eased back to something reasonable, something bearable.

Raven released Denver, who turned and snagged Blaine, their strong bodies rubbing in the best way possible. “You done running with the cheetah, baby?” Denver asked.

“I am. Did you see him? He can’t maintain it long, but… shit, he doesn’t have to.”

“He’s quick,” Raven agreed. “Better runner than a bullrider, for sure.”

“Oh, shit. Rocket’s the world’s shittiest bullrider. Him and Ben Ursa should form a club.” Denver had more than a little evil in him.

Blaine chuckled. “Ben is good with horses. Rocket needs to find something to do with his running.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he does. Later.” Denny shot Blaine a look that was pure need. “Later.”

“Uh-huh.”

bio

Julia Talbot lives in the great Southwest, where there is hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full time author, Julia has been published by Samhain Publishing, Dreamspinner Press, All Romance eBooks and Changeling Press. She believes in stories that leave a mark, and that everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved. Find Julia at @juliatalbot on Twitter.

For more information on other books by Julia, please visit her official website:

http://www.juliatalbot.com

http://twitter.com/JuliaTalbot

https://www.facebook.com/juliatalbotwriterpage

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Freaked Out (Midnight Rodeo #5) by @KiernanKelly #Giveaway

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image1Freaked Out

Midnight Rodeo 5

Kiernan Kelly

Genre: Gay, Paranormal, Romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: 11/1/2016

ISBN: 9781945193163

Word Count: 20000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

blurbLove and compassion, when least expected, helps the hopeless soar.

Gargoyle Killian has the unenviable job at Darque and Knight Rodeo of wrangling the sideshow acts. When he meets Micah, one of the freaks from a new troupe contracted to perform, he’s instantly drawn to the poor, pathetic creature. The more he learns about Micah’s situation with his reprehensible handler, the more determined he is to protect Micah.

Trapped painfully between two forms—man and snake—Micah knows nothing about his past except for what his handler tells him. The attentions of the gargoyle boost his mood, but what can Killian do to help him find the truth he seeks?

ARe

excerpt

Killian recognized the setup in an instant. It was a typical ten-in-one layout. An elevated walkway was constructed for marks to walk across, which overlooked “pits,” — curtained, sectioned off spaces on ground level where the freaks were exhibited.

“Hey, you! We’re closed. We don’t open until four. Get your ass out.”

The voice was rough and carried an edge of both arrogance and contempt, which made it clear the speaker thought highly of himself and was used to being obeyed without question. Its owner was an ogre, creatures known for their craggy faces and sour dispositions. Unlike most of his ilk, though, this one was less muscled and far fatter than other ogres with the show. His jowly cheeks sagged on his face, softening the coarseness in appearance his species were known for and almost melding with the deep rolls of fat on his neck. A ponderous belly strained the buttons on his frayed and faded black tuxedo jacket. He kept his sausage-like fingers hooked into the jacket’s lapels.

“Are you Emmet?”

“Yeah. Are you deaf?”

Killian bristled. Swallowing the anger summoned by the ogre’s disrespectful tone took what felt like a Herculean effort. That Emmet assumed at first glance Killian didn’t belong in the tent, that he was nothing but an insignificant mark, didn’t sit well with him. His ego was already bruised by his earlier conversation with Phillip; he felt the sting and the resulting need to hurt back was strong. “Listen, I’m here to—”

“I don’t give a sack of flying pig shit why you’re in here. Fucking brainless local yokels. Don’t you get it? Nobody gets a free show. You pay your money like every other fucking mark if you want to see my acts, and you do it after we open for business.”

“I’m not a mark! I’m—”

“Who are you, then? One of the rodeo roughnecks? Don’t you have a stake to pound or a pile of cow shit to shovel somewhere? Get the fuck out before I break you in half and feed you to the Snake Man.”

Killian felt his instant dislike for the ogre deepen into active loathing. That is the sound of an asshole speaking, he thought. His breath must reek of the shit he’s spewing. He tried to fight against his rising temper. A confrontation with a pissed off gargoyle rarely ended well, and he didn’t really want to explain to Phil and Cody why he’d murdered their newest hire. “I’d check my tone if I were you, jerk-off. Unless you want to find yourself and your acts booted out of the show, that is. I’m Killian, and I run the fucking sideshow.”

The ogre had the audacity to laugh at him. “Are you now? Well, I say you don’t run jack shit when it comes to me and my acts. I make the rules here, and you can fucking suck my dick if you don’t like it, little man.”

Little man? Seriously? He wants a pissing contest? Okay, then. No problem. Killian shifted into his gargoyle form, and noted with satisfaction the glitter of fear as it swiftly replaced the arrogance in the ogre’s expression. Damn skippy, you fucking overgrown troll doll. “Nobody fucks with my sideshow. This is how it works here, fuck face. You report to me, and I report directly to Darque and Knight. You got a problem with the chain of command, you’re free to voice your concerns with them. Of course, that might be hard to do after I rip your tongue out of your mouth and strangle you with it.”

“H-hey, now. No need for threats, friend.” Emmet held up his hands, palms facing outward, as if to ward off an impending attack. Not that anything short of a brick wall could stop Killian if he attacked while in his gargoyle form. His talons would shred the ogre as easily as a sushi chef could slice sashimi. “Just trying to protect my investments, is all. You understand, right?”

Typical of a bully, Killian thought. All bluster and no balls. “I want to see your acts. Now. Darque and Knight may have signed you on with the show, but I’m the one who decides whether you stay on.” Not really, but he figured Emmet-the-Asshole didn’t need to know that nugget of information.

“Sure, sure. I’ll send them into their pens. Give you the full show.” Emmet moved quickly for as such a hefty man, although the catwalk trembled under each of his steps. He disappeared behind a black curtain hung at the rear of the exhibit.

Killian swore softly under his breath. He’d only meant to wander around, observation without interaction and all that psychobabble crap. He had no intention of meeting the attractions face-to-face, but now he was stuck with a private viewing. He felt like a naughty little boy caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t. He felt anxious and guilty, and pissed off at himself for feeling that way.

I’m not doing anything wrong, he reminded himself. This is my job, right? I’m supposed to make sure the acts are legitimate. Except he hadn’t hired these acts — Darque and Knight had. He wasn’t responsible for them, Cody and Phil were.

Then why, he asked himself, do I feel like I am?

 

bio

Kiernan Kelly’s stories of gay romance envelop diverse themes ranging from paranormal, to fantasy, and science fiction to contemporary romance. She is the author of over eighty titles available in both print and ebook.

Kiernan also writes young adult GLBT romance under the pen name, Dakota Chase.

For more information on other books by Kiernan, visit her website:

http://www.kiernankelly.com

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/kiernan.kelly

Twitter https://twitter.com/KiernanKelly

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/429589.Kiernan_Kelly

 

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Oklahoma Rain by Kiernan Kelly #Giveaway @KiernanKelly

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Image3Oklahoma Rain

Midnight Rodeo

Book Two

Kiernan Kelly

Genre: Gay paranormal romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

ISBN: 978-1-945193-13-2

Word Count: 20000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

 

blurbBlaze offers Zack a home, but is love enough to keep him?

Psychic Blaze scouts locations for the rodeo company, Darque and Knight. While checking out a possible venue he finds another psychic talent, Zack, who’s hot as the Fourth of July.

Zack is complicated, though, thanks to his sidekick, Mikey, a damaged kid. Blaze invites the pair back to the rodeo, but not everyone is as happy as Blaze to have them there.

ARe

excerpt

Hello?” Blaze rapped on the door. “Come on. I know you’re in there.” He rolled his eyes at the silence that answered him. “Look, we can do this all afternoon, or you can just open the fucking door. I know what you are. I’m not here to hurt you.” Still nothing. “Oh, for… I really don’t want to break the door down. I bruise like an overripe peach.”

After another few moments, he heard the floor creak, and the lock on the door slide free.

The door swung inward, revealing a man who looked only slightly younger than himself, and a boy. The child looked no older than ten years. He was a slight thing, skinny, but his wide, liquid brown eyes glittered with fear and a spark of curiosity.

The man stepped in front of the boy as if to protect the child from Blaze. His green eyes were hard with suspicion, but that didn’t stop Blaze from noting his high cheekbones, and lean, hard body clad in a tight, worn t-shirt and denim, or the inky black hair that fell in a sleek sheet past his shoulders.

Blaze cleared his throat. “Look, I know you’re a supernatural. So am I. We’re on the same side. My name is Blaze.”

Supernatural? What’s that?” The man’s lips mashed into a thin, tense line.

Come on. Neither of us is stupid. You can sense it in me. I know you can.”

The man chewed on his lip, staring hard at Blaze for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. He gave a short nod. “I’m Zack. The boy is Mikey. At least, that’s what I call him. I don’t know his real name. He doesn’t talk.”

Blaze glanced at the boy. Small for his age, almost scrawny. He had brown hair, huge, dark eyes, and milk-pale skin. Blaze spotted the faint markings of faded bruises on the child’s face. “Mind telling me how a supernatural came to be squatting in a farmhouse with a mundane kid?”

Zack reached behind him, as if to prove to himself Mikey was still there, and all right. “It’s not much of a story. I was in Kansas City, working for a supe who owned a pizza place. I made deliveries, helped clean, that sort of thing.”

Blaze nodded. “Go on.”

I had a delivery in a part of town that was pretty worn down. You know, tenements, some abandoned buildings, drug dealers, hookers on the corner, that sort of thing. I made the delivery in a building that was only one-step up from condemned. When I was walking down the hallway, I heard a kid screaming.”

Let me guess… you played hero and busted down the door to save him.”

Zack cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “There was a child screaming bloody murder. You wouldn’t?”

Blaze tried to stare Zack down, but couldn’t. He rolled his eyes and tried to hedge instead. “Only someone stupid or with a death wish would do it.”

Zack’s lips tilted in a smirk. “Which one are you?”

Blaze snorted. “Never mind. So, what happened?”

The door was unlocked, so I opened it and went inside. There was a male mundane, big guy, six-foot easy, maybe two-twenty, two-thirty, and he’s wailing on this little kid. The kid is crying, and saying ‘no, please stop, please stop.’ What was I supposed to do? Walk away?”

Most supes would say yes.”

Yeah, well, not this one. I know what it’s like to be on the wrong end of a fist. I got the kid out.”

Blaze gave Zack the once-over. “You’re lean, and going up against a human weighing in at two-thirty? How did you manage that?”

I never had to touch him.” For the first time, Zack smiled, and the effect was devastating. His curved lips transformed his face from merely good-looking to truly gorgeous. Twin dimples winked at Blaze, and his green eyes flashed with humor. “I’m telekinetic. I picked that big bastard up and floated him right out of the window. Let him hover in the air until he fucking wet his pants, then put him up on the roof of the building next door. Took the kid and split. That was the last time I heard Mikey speak. I think maybe his throat was injured in the beating.”

Look, I understand you helping the kid and all, but isn’t that kidnapping?” The last thing Blaze needed was to get involved in a criminal activity which might bring the eyes of the police on the rodeo.

Zack shook his head. “No. When we got away, I gave him a pen and paper, asked him if that was his dad. He said no. Said the guy stole him from the orphanage.”

He’s an orphan?”

That’s what he says. Or writes. He doesn’t want to go back there. It’s not a nice place, I think. The other kids are bigger, and mean to him, and the nuns who ran it weren’t much better.”

Blaze sniffed. “Who is this kid? Oliver Twist?”

Zack glared at him. “Nobody is asking for your opinion or your permission.”

You’re right, you’re right. My apologies. You’re a good man for taking care of him.”

Zack seemed mollified. “Who are you, anyway?”

Like I said, my name is Blaze. Blaze Morgan. I’m the patch for the Darque and Knight Rodeo. Ever heard of us?” He looked back and forth between Zack and Mikey, noting the blank expressions on both faces. “We’re the only professional rodeo staffed by and performing for supernaturals. We travel the country every year performing in little towns just like this one. Gonna be setting up here in a few hours. Which brings me to my, er… little problem. You see, you’re squatting in what’s going to be the middle of our rodeo.”

We got no place else to go. And we were here first.” Zack’s expression grew hard again, the muscles in his arms bunching as his hands curled into fists. It was obvious he was gearing up for a fight.

Blaze held his hands out. The last thing he needed was a busted nose from some hayseed Supe squatter. “Whoa. Now, we don’t want any trouble. I understand. Really, I do. But the kid can’t stay here. He’s human. You can, since you’re a supe, but not him.”

If I stay, he stays, and no matter what you say, neither of us is going anywhere.”

Come on, Zack. Be reasonable. There’s going to be a whole shitload of supes pulling in here in the next few hours. If they see the kid, they’ll go apeshit.”

Then tell them to go somewhere else.”

Blaze shook his head. “I can’t. I’m not the one in charge.”

Then we’ll talk to the person who is.”

bio

Kiernan’s stories of gay romance envelop diverse themes ranging from paranormal, to fantasy, and science fiction to contemporary romance. She is the author of over eighty titles available in both print and ebook.

Kiernan also writes young adult GLBT romance under the pen name, Dakota Chase.

For more information on other books by Kiernan, visit her website: www.KiernanKelly.com

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/kiernan.kelly

Twitter https://twitter.com/KiernanKelly

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/429589.Kiernan_Kelly

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Big Bear, Little Bear by Julia Talbot #Giveaway @JuliaTalbot

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Image2Big Bear, Little Bear

Midnight Rodeo

Book Three

Julia Talbot

Genre: Gay shifter romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: 9/1/2016

ISBN: 978-1-945193-14-9

Word Count: 20000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

 

blurbLittle bear comes into his own.

Ben Ursa has been out of the Midnight Rodeo game for a while, recovering from a terrible head injury. When he comes back, he finds a whole new place in the pecking order, his trained horses in high demand.

He also finds rodeo clown and grizzly shifter, Ozzie, who rejected him for being too young before. Now Ozzie thinks he’s just right, even if he is a little black bear. Can Ben really recover and become Ozzie’s mate, or will his family scheme to keep him “little bear”?

ARe

excerpt

Man, the bullfighters all have their panties in a wad. I hope to hell they settle it out.” Ozzie wiped makeup off his forehead, growling a little at Thack’s assistant, January.

You and me and the boss and the big boss and every other creature here, sir.”

Sir.

God, the wee little brownie was adorable. Such a cutie, with his little square glasses and his tiny soul patch of a beard.

Squishable.

Ozzie wanted to hug January and lick him, maybe. Definitely sniff him. Ozzie reined in his bear tendencies, which could crop up at the least convenient times. His desire wasn’t even sexual. More teddy bear like.

So, tell me about the next venue,” Ozzie said. Their next stop was at a brand new arena.

It’s near Santa Fe, sir. A charming arena with adequate facilities and a fabulous local pool of talent. They’re… surprisingly active there.”

Are they? Good. We need more talent in the timed events.”

Yes. Yes, I believe Ben Ursa will be rejoining us. Mr. Thackery is very pleased.”

Ben? Ben Ursa?

Poor kid. Ozzie remembered him well, and not only for his name, which was as bad as Osbourne McMahon. Bear Son of the Bear. Ben Ursa was Grizzly Adams meeting Latin.

They get his brains all unrattled? Last time I saw him, he was in a bad way.”

That depends on who you ask. January, I need the manifests for the drivers.” Thack nodded to Ozzie as January scrambled.

Oh. Poor kid. But he’s good to ride?” He had to admit he’d had a thing for Ben, but he’d ignored it, waiting for the kid to be more confident. Hell, he felt like shit over it because the night the kid had gotten hurt, Ben tried to make a move on Ozzie, which he rebuffed.

He wanted Ben to be all grown-up first.

He’s got a hard head.” Thack shrugged. “Shit, man, you know the kid is terrible at his job. He trains the best horses, though.”

He does.” Good hazing, roping, and bulldogging horses were worth their weight in gold in their business. Worth enough to give a bad bulldogger a job. “I’ll have to stop by his trailer and say hi.”

It would be good to have another bear on tour again. Someone who understood about naps and salmon. Mmm. Salmon. He did love that stuff. Honey, too.

He’s in the big black trailer with the bear painted on it.”

Good deal.” He’d drop by on his way to get some food. Wave. Sniff some.

Thack nodded. “Good show, man.”

Thank you.” Ozzie loved his job. He got to play on his natural bearish clumsiness and be a smart-ass at the same time.

Thack smiled, and Jesus fuck, that was creepy. All teeth and horns. Demons. Scary like whoa sometimes.

Ozzie waved and headed to see the little bear. Wow. That trailer was nicer than his. Way nicer.

Little Ben had family with money, with land, with amazing horses. Talk about a bear with a silver honey spoon in his mouth.

Ozzie grinned. Of course, the kid had also been hurt so bad a few seasons ago that he had to learn how to walk all over again. That meant the kid had grit. Determination.

He knocked on the trailer door, the little bear’s voice ringing out. “Coming!”

Ozzie tried to peer inside, but the window by the door was too small to get a good view.

The door opened up, bright button eyes shining at him from Ben’s smiling face. “Oz!”

Hey, buddy.” Oh, look at that. Ben looked so much better than he had last time Ozzie had seen him.

Come in. Come in. I just got here.” Ben was little for a bear, but a solid, broad shouldered man with a shock of pitch-black hair. He looked healthier, the skinny and pallor wore clean off from when he’d been hurt.

Thanks. Thack said you were back.”

I’m trying to be, yeah. It was touch and go.”

Well, I’m glad you’re better, kiddo.” Man, the inside of the fifth wheel was amazing, a big kitchen and a huge platform bed visible in the back.

Have a sit.”

The place was like a rolling condo—someone’s momma wanted to assure her cub was comfortable and safe.

He didn’t even have to move dirty clothes off the built-in sofa before he sat. “Nice place.”

Yeah. Momma Bear. You know.”

I do.” He’d met Ben’s mom. She was something else.

Ben blushed, head ducking, and Ozzie saw the scar, heavy and thick against his scalp. Damn.

Hey, my mom still packs my lunch when she comes to visit. Smoked salmon tea sandwiches,” Ozzie said.

I like smoked salmon. Lots. You want a beer?”

Honey wheat?”

Ben nodded. “I got a six-pack. You’re off work, hmm?”

I am.” He settled back, just—Man, it was nice to have another bear around, the scent familiar. Comforting. He forgot, sometimes, how alone he felt. Seeing Ben reminded him how much he’d liked the kid, too.

Little Ben brought him a beer, settling down across from him, all grins. Such a cutie. Really, Ozzie felt a little pervy around Ben. Just a little. Ben was gentle, peaceful, not a bit of growl in him.

Ozzie grinned. He had a lot of grr. A lot of grizzly.

bio

Julia Talbot lives in the great Southwest, where there is hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full time author, Julia has been published by Samhain Publishing, Dreamspinner Press, All Romance eBooks and Changeling Press. She believes in stories that leave a mark, and that everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved. Find Julia at @juliatalbot on Twitter.

For more information on other books by Julia, please visit her official website:

http://www.juliatalbot.com

http://twitter.com/JuliaTalbot

https://www.facebook.com/juliatalbotwriterpage/

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Claiming Their Mate by B.A. Tortuga #Giveaway @batortuga

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Image1Claiming Their Mate

Two Is Never Enough

Book 2

B.A. Tortuga

Genre: Gay shifter romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: 9/1/2016

ISBN: 978-1-945193-25-5

Word Count: 30000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

 

blurbHe’s here on vacation. They’re here for him.

Samson and Dane are werewolves who act as guardians of their pack. They’re also lovers, but they both long for the third person they know will make their home whole. Their Chosen.

Ryan has no idea he’s even a werewolf. He’s visiting rural New Mexico and Colorado to write horror novels, not get it on with the two hottest men he’s ever met. So why can’t he keep his hands off them, and why is biting suddenly so hot? Can Samson and Dane convince Ryan that he’s like them, and that he needs to leave his city life behind?

ARe

 

excerpt

The pup slipped out of bed late in the night. They’d all slept like they’d been on a hunt, which he guessed lots of Mexican food and sex could simulate. In fact, Dane slept on, not even snuffling when the pressure of Ryan’s body left the mattress.

Samson, now, he wasn’t a deep sleeper, and he knew when someone was trying to make like coyote ugly and not wake him so they could slip away.

That simply didn’t work for him.

He reached out and wrapped one hand around a lean hip. “Where you going?” Samson murmured.

Ryan jumped like he’d been popped with a rubber band in the balls. “I missed my real estate appointment.”

“Well, it’s not like you can call your agent at this time of night, honey.”

“No. No, I guess not.” Ryan stood there, pale in the streetlight filtering in from outside.

Samson loved how Ryan was different, like a marble statue, but warm, alive. He had to wonder if the wolf was pale, too, thin.

“How do you look in your other life?” he asked.

“Like a writer, I guess? I just have a place in Dallas. I’m blocked, so I came out here.”

“Blocked how?” Was it too cold out there on the porch for a guy from Dallas? Samson grabbed an extra blanket and took Ryan outside with him, the pup following easily when he tugged.

“Like writer’s block? I’d been working on a series and I’ve written myself into a hole. I don’t even want to write zombies anymore. It’s silly nonsense, really, but I thought if I came out to the boonies and learned all I could about something new the plot would come to me. I mean, I told my agent I was writing martians, but really, I need to finish the series.”

“Zombies.” Samson blinked, then chuckled, pulling Ryan down with him on the big swing dealie and wrapping them in the blanket. It felt natural as breathing, just like touching Dane always did. Poor Dane. Two orgasms and the guy was out like the proverbial light.

“Yeah. They’re in right now.” Ryan’s nostrils flared and he knew the pup was scenting him, learning him. Exceptional instincts. Samson approved.

“Hmm. I think you ought to add in werewolves.” What would Ryan say to that? Could be really be completely unaware of what was inside him? Samson knew the wolf was in there.

Their alpha, Bruce, was going to give them no end of shit, both sets of his guardians ending up with dormant Omegas. What were the chances?

“Werewolves? They’re almost as done as vampires. Shame, though. I love the trappings of the genre, really.”

“What’s your favorite part?” This was fascinating. It was like seeing himself through someone else’s eyes for the first time. Seeing a werewolf movie with someone who didn’t watch horror…

“The whole animalistic versus human situation. It’s a turn on, just like the whole biting thing in the vampire world.”

“I like biting. So does Dane.” Samson nibbled at the nape of Ryan’s neck.

“Uhn.” Ryan shuddered for him, the entire motion pure sex. “Does he?”

“Mmmhmm. Oh, he’ll tell you he’d rather do the biting and scold for being bitten, but he catches and pitches, if you get me.” Dane could fight like a stone cold motherfucker, but he could bottom like a hot little slut, too.

It all worked for him.

“How long have you two been together?”

Samson pondered that. “Well, we’ve known each other since infancy, I guess.”

“Oh, wow. No shit? That’s cool, huh?”

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s annoying as hell.” Samson chuffed out a laugh. “I adore the fucker, though.”

“Well, good. You two pick up strangers a lot?”

“No.” He tilted back Ryan’s head so he could look into those pretty eyes. “No, we don’t.”

“No?” The blue in Ryan’s eyes were a perfect match for the streaks in the mussed hair, and the combination of looks served to make Ryan looked so young.

“No. You were different right away. We knew you were there before we ever stepped inside.”

Ryan chuckled softly, shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

“No it’s not, honey.” He stroked that flat belly, tugging the heavy ring that pierced Ryan’s cock and Ryan moaned, ass pushing back against him.

“That’s it. Feel it. We’re connected. All of us.”

“God, that…that feels like magic.”

“I love your skin. So smooth.”

“I wax, remember?”

He blinked. Seriously? Ow. Potential for a guy that didn’t mind a little sting, but… Ow. His balls tried to crawl up in his body.

bio

B.A. Tortuga Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting, and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.

Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.

For more information on other books by B.A., visit her official website: http://BATortuga.com

http://www.batortuga.com/

http://batortuga.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/batortuga

https://twitter.com/batortuga

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You Can See Me by A.E. Via #Giveaway @AuthorAEVia

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Image2You Can See Me
A.E. Via

Genre: Gay, Multiple Partners, Erotic Romance
Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication: August 1 2016
ISBN: 978-1-943576-93-7
Number of pages: 358
Word Count: 72000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

blurbIt takes more than perseverance to recover from tragedy…you also need love.

Following a horrific accident that leaves him blind, renowned chef Prescott Vaughan loses his fiancé and all hope for his career. Recovery and confidence in his skills come slowly, along with feelings he hasn’t experienced in a long time when he meets his new neighbor, Dr. Rickson Edwards.

Unlike Prescott, Ric is open about his attraction to men yet has issues that complicate their relationship. A brief separation threatens his hopes for an eventual reunion when Prescott befriends the handsome aspiring chef Blair McKenzie, who wants more than cooking advice.

Ric doubts Pres can let go of the charming southerner, but after an encounter with the sinfully sexy man, he can’t help his attraction as well. Pres feels he must choose but realizes…does he have to?

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excerpt

Pres didn’t want to think about being lonely anymore. Last night he’d eaten his langoustine lobster alone when his girlfriend never showed up after happy hour. He’d called her a couple times, but it went straight to voice mail.
The next morning he’d done his usual Friday morning workout with his personal trainer and worked on some reviews since he didn’t go into the office. In the afternoon, he did meaningless organization in his kitchen pantry and marinated some pork tenderloin for dinner.
Cooking always made him feel better. He only wished he had someone besides himself to enjoy it, too. He’d even gone as far as giving his neighbors Jeff and Cindy a couple dishes, just to hear a few compliments. How pathetic.
While he waited a few minutes to cook his meat, he sat at the kitchen island and listened to an audiobook his dad had given him. Josey came over and whined at him, laying his heavy head on his knee.
“Sorry, boy. You need to go out, huh?” Pres got up and moved quickly and effortlessly to his bedroom to change into something a little more comfortable. Josey whined some more. “Okay, okay. I’m coming, Josey.”
Pres slid into his Jordan flip-flops and grabbed a plastic doggie-poop bag and the leash from out of his hall closet. He took his keys off the hook, grabbed his long cane, set the alarm, and left his condo. He didn’t need to put Josey’s harness on. They’d walked this path for over three years now, and he knew it well.
As Pres waited for the elevator, he felt a presence next to him. It was a male presence because the scent was spicy with a sweet undertone. Just when Pres prepared to speak, his visitor spoke to him first.
“Hello,” he said in a deep, sultry voice.
“Good evening,” Pres responded.
“Going for a little stroll, huh? He’s a beautiful dog. May I pet him?” asked the good-smelling stranger. His accent was slightly northern but not overly pronounced. Listening to him speak made Pres think about what the man’s mouth might look like. If a person had a strong voice, he immediately pictured a warm, inviting smile covered by full lips.
“Yes, go right ahead. He’s very spoiled. Any attention he can get, he’s more than willing to take.” Pres lifted Josey’s leash, making him rise up off his belly.
“Awww. So handsome. You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Yes, I can tell you’re a good boy,” the stranger crooned to his dog.
Pres could hear the man ruffling Josey’s scruff underneath his collar as he scratched him.
“So do you live on this floor?” Pres figured he’d spark a little conversation since the elevator was taking forever.
“Yep. Actually, just a few doors down from you,” he replied happily.
“You know where I live? Well, now I have to kill ya,” Pres joked, hoping his neighbor had a sense of humor, which he did because he heard him let out a genuinely deep laugh.
With a laugh like that, he definitely has a nice smile.
“Funny guy, huh? My name is Rickson Edwards, but everyone calls me Ric. I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself sooner, but I’m fairly new to the building, and every time I see you, you’re either just getting on or off of the elevator.”
He felt Ric take his hand that wasn’t holding Josey’s leash and slide his into it during his introduction. Damn, he has a strong handshake.
Pres returned the firm grip. “I’m Prescott Vaughan. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Edwards.”
“How respectful of you, but there is no Mr. Edwards, just Ric…Mr. Vaughan.”
Pres mocked him right back. “How respectful of you, but Mr. Vaughan lives in Richmond with my mother, just Prescott, or Pres, if you like.”
“I do like…I mean the name. I like your name,” Ric stammered.
Pres smiled as he imagined a slight blush creeping up on the man’s face.
At its arrival, they both stepped into the elevator, leaving the introduction awkwardness in the hallway. Neither said another word. There was only the humming of the elevator gears as it descended its way to the lobby.
Pres was overly aware of Ric’s gaze on him, and it made him smile.
“Why are you smiling?” his neighbor asked.
“Why are you staring at me?” Pres retorted.
“Because you’re—” He stopped quickly.
“Because I’m what?” Pres questioned, wondering why Ric didn’t finish his sentence.
“Nothing. Didn’t mean to stare, and I’m not even going to ask how you knew that I was, either.” He laughed.
“It’s within my power,” Pres joked back.
Pres found himself trying to imagine what Ric’s face looked like. If the appearance matched the voice and humor, then he probably had light brown hair and light green or hazel eyes. His cheekbones could probably make a woman envious, and he didn’t breathe heavily, so Pres assumed he didn’t have any weight issues. His voice came from slightly above Pres when he spoke, so the man was taller than him, making Ric probably six-foot-two or three. Being closed in the small compartment had Pres’s sensitive nose filled with Ric’s unique scent. It had him feeling dizzy and a little disoriented. That spicy, sweet combination was like nothing he’d ever smelled before. He liked it…a lot.
That thought did not freak out Pres at all, and liking the man’s smell was an interesting feeling for him. He wasn’t squeamish that a man had given him such a sensual reaction. If he was going to be totally honest with himself, everything he did when he was in his fraternity didn’t scream hetero from the word go, but that was over twelve years ago. Pres had not met a man he was attracted to since…until now.
The elevator doors opened, and Pres extended his hand, telling Ric to go ahead and exit first.
“Thank you, Pres.”
“You’re welcome. It was nice meeting you, Ric. Have a good evening.”
“Likewise,” Ric said.
Pres walked through the lobby having a nagging urge to turn around and look back. But that was fucking pointless…right?

bio

A.E. Via graduated in May of 2008 with a Bachelor’s Degree in Sociology from Virginia Wesleyan College. She’s a new author to the beautiful gay erotic genre. Her writing embodies everything from spicy to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.

When she’s not clicking away at her laptop, A.E. runs a very successful paralegal-for-hire business and in her spare time, she devotes herself to her family – a husband and four children – her two pets, a Maltese dog and her white Siamese cat, ELynn, named after the late great gay romance author ELynn Harris. While Blue Moon is her first novel, she has plenty more to come…so sit back and grab a cool drink, because the male on male action is just heating up!

Website: http://www.authoraevia.com/

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/aeviaauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorAEVia

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7354860.A_E_Via

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Blowing Smoke by Sean Michael #Giveaway @SeanMichael09

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Image1Blowing Smoke
Sean Michael

Genre: Gay, dragon shifter, BDSM
Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication: August 1 2016
ISBN: 978-1-945193-23-1
Word Count: 50000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

blurbDo dragons have soul mates?

Brinley Adams is pleased to get a job as assistant to elusive and reclusive billionaire Lindrom Drage. That the job requires him to live in the man’s home in the country is only a bonus. While he’s not exactly running away, he’s trying to leave behind a crazy, stalking ex, and Drage’s isolated home might be just the place to hide.

Lindrom Drage, known at home as Dragon, just wants an assistant who works out for longer than a month or two. He’s already gone through several in the last year, and he wants someone who can do the job and put up with his refusal to deal with anything that takes him out of his home. But when he meets Brin, he suddenly wants so much more than just a work assistant.

Brin doesn’t know his boss is actually a dragon. The trick is going to be convincing Brin that neither of them is crazy, and that not only are dragons real, so are soul mates.

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excerpt

Brinley Adams looked at the huge wall, at the gate made to keep people out, and the grounds which seemed to be like something from a fairy story—rows after rows of red roses, with a path leading into the darkness, he assumed toward the mansion. He’d spent a fortune on the taxi to get here, the place well out of town with nothing around it for miles.

Oh, man. He wasn’t ready for this. He’d thought he was. Hell, he’d researched Dragon for weeks—the companies, the corporate takeovers, every single ounce of information anyone had ever whispered online about the reclusive billionaire. Aside from the public information about his business dealings, there was surprisingly little to learn.

He’d had five phone interviews, and three in-person interviews with the man’s business managers. The final one with a sharp-eyed woman who’d made him sign a non-disclosure agreement before she’d even interviewed him, then another, more binding one, when she offered him the job.

Now he was here. Shit. He swallowed hard and forced himself to take some deep breaths. He finally gathered up the nerve to hit the button on the intercom.

There was no answer for long enough that he was contemplating either pressing the button again or just leaving altogether. He could start walking and see if it got him back to civilization enough to find another taxi or a bus or something.

“What?” The voice was impatient. Annoyed.

Brin swallowed again, took another breath, and went for it. “Good afternoon. I’m Brinley Adams, the new personal assistant. I was told to report here at one.” It was ten till. Given he’d had no clue just how long it was going to take him to get here, he thought he’d done well.

“You’re early.” It came at him like an accusation.

“Yes, Sir.” His father had always stressed punctuality as a virtue, both in business and personal dealings. It was better to be ten minutes early than even a minute late.

There was a grunt, then, “How unusual. Show me your ID. Just hold it up to the camera on your right.”

“Yes, Sir.” Brin pulled his license out of his wallet and held it up. He looked good, he knew he did. Professional, but classy. On trend, but not chic. Neat and in no way a challenge. His driver’s license photo reflected that as well.

Another grunt sounded, then a buzzer, the gate unlocking with a loud thunk. “Come straight up to the house and make sure you shut the gate firmly behind you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He grabbed his suitcase and his laptop bag. The rest of his things would come via mail once he knew this was going to work out. It wasn’t like he had tons of stuff. Four boxes. He’d pared down. It hade been made clear in his interviews that room and board were included along with a generous salary and that he would not need to bring a lot with him. The implication had in fact been that the less he had to bring, the better.

Brin slipped through the huge gate, then put down his bags and made sure to pull the gate shut behind him. He had to pull hard as the gate was heavier than it looked, which was a good trick as it looked pretty damn heavy. The lock latched with an almost ominous sound. The path already seemed darker now that he was on this side of the gate, too. He shook his head to dispel the doom and gloom gathering around him—it was all in his head. He picked up his two bags again and squared his shoulders.

This was it.

Brin took the path that ran next to the long driveway, the roses giving way to trees that joined a couple feet above his head, making a ceiling of sorts, letting the sunshine through in patches, enough to light the way but not enough to be called bright. He was fascinated by the canopy formed by the branches, way above his head. Wow. It was like… like a fortress.

Dragon—real name Lindorm Drage—had the reputation for being a recluse. There were no pictures of the man anywhere, and this whole driveway into darkness and covered by a tree-roof just added to the mystery.

The path curved slightly to the left and became overgrown, forcing him over onto the road, which did not look particularly well-used in its own right. He looked back, but the curve in the road had been enough to put the gate and the public road beyond it out of sight. No sight of the house in front of him yet, either. It increased the sensation of being in a fairy tale, and again he had to shake off the notion. This was just an ill-used road and an overgrown forest, not some scary path to a witch’s lair, and he wasn’t some innocent who should have been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs behind him. Although, he had to admit, the lack of birdsong made him think that at least if he had left a breadcrumb trail, it wouldn’t have been eaten.

He kept going, his bags growing heavier as he walked and walked. He was soon glad for the lack of sun and the cool breezes that danced in the shade of the tress, keeping him from overheating.

The road underfoot became untidier. He looked back again, startled to realize it didn’t really seem like he was following any sort of path—there appeared to be only trees and brush behind him, as if the overgrown road had become even more so in the time that it had taken him to travel it. He faced forward, continuing gamely on, though his steps were a touch more hesitant now. Just when he was sure he must have slipped off the path altogether and was wandering aimlessly through the forest, he came upon the house.

It looked more like a castle than anything else, made from large stones with a huge tower in the middle that rose a whole story higher than the rest of the place. The front doors were a dark wood, banded with steel bars across it. He was almost surprised that there was no drawbridge over a moat, but the place lacked both. There were, however, two gargoyles guarding the front steps leading up to the massive, and intimidating, door, and another gargoyle head was the knocker. There was no bell.

Wow. Was this place even real?

bio

Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used bookstores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.

Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.

Website: http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com/

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWrites

Twitter: @SeanMichael09

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Star Power by @MorticiaKnight #Giveaway #Gay #Suspense #BDSM

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StarPower_1400X2100-72dpiStar Power

Morticia Knight

Genre: Gay, Suspense, BDSM

Date of Publication: February 1, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-943576-65-4

blurbThey must escape danger before they can have their Hollywood ending.

After a few cinematic bombs lower his box-office appeal, actor Adrien Fury wants Harrison Langford to bring his career back to superstar status. He would also love to learn more about his mysterious and handsome agent, if he could ever get him alone.

Harry has loved Adrien for years but never revealed his feelings. He keeps things professional between them and will do whatever it takes to make sure Adrien gets what he wants. When increasingly disturbing letters show up at his agency, threatening horrible things against the man he loves, Harry vows to protect Adrien at all costs.

Adrien and Harry are on the verge of revealing their true feelings to each other when danger strikes. Maybe they can share a lasting love…if Adrien’s stalker doesn’t get to him first.

excerpt

The whole nightmare had begun a couple of months before, the first letters almost a month apart, then gradually becoming more violent and frequent. The one on Karen’s desk would be the third this week, the previous one less than twenty-four hours earlier.

“You can no longer be left alone for one thing.”

Adrien raised his head to see Harry staring at him even more intensely than normal. He hadn’t thought such a thing was possible.

“But I don’t trust anyone except my mom and sister. My brother’s out. He’d probably take out a billboard ad with directions to where I was and how to get to me. And anyway, I won’t endanger my family.”

“Of course not. After yesterday’s rather gory communication, I placed a call to a bodyguard agency. I’d planned on filling you in at the end of our meeting.”

Adrien tried not to roll his eyes. He didn’t know why they even bothered with meetings. Harry went ahead and did whatever he wanted to do anyway.

“Can I go on record and say that I think the whole bodyguard thing is creepy? Some stranger following me around in my own home, staring at me.”

“Is that less appealing to you than being killed?”

“Listen, Mr. Spock. Could I have a tiny bit of compassion here? You might not be freaking out, but I am.” He folded his hands in his lap, attempting to get his panic under control. Harry was right. Coming unglued wouldn’t help. He just had no idea what would. “Bodyguard, huh? How many and how do we pick a trustworthy agency? I mean, what if the stalker gets to them by paying them off or…something?”

“This isn’t the plot to your last bomb at the box office and regardless, I know of a reputable agency.”

Adrien let out an aggravated sigh. “Of course you do.”

“Would you prefer I was less efficient?” Harry continued as it had no doubt been a rhetorical question anyway. “I’ll confer with them. But my suggestion would be two inside and at least four on the perimeter of your property.”

Another sarcastic retort almost burst out of him, but he knew he was being a brat. It was obvious that Harry had already gone to the trouble of finding a way to protect him, probably doing it in a manner so that he wouldn’t get overly upset.

“Harry?”

“Yes, Adrien?”

“Thank you. I’m just…” He swallowed hard past a lump in his throat.

“I know, Adrien. Trust me. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

****

Harrison gazed at the reflection staring back at him from his mirror. He adjusted the square shaped, solid gold and pearl studs in his royal blue Canali French cuffed dress shirt. His tie was in a pattern of diagonal stripes that consisted of the dark blue of his shirt, ice blue, then black. It was an excellent contrast to what he wore, the matching gold and pearl tie bar completing his ensemble.

He kept his dark brown hair meticulously trimmed and in a professional cut. The slightly longer strands across the top of his head were slicked back, only the barest hint of silver beginning at his temples. His exercise regime was basic, but kept him trim and healthy. His goal was a flat stomach, light muscle definition and enough strength that, on the occasions he sought out a partner, he’d have the vigor to effectively wield a crop or flogger and not experience any physical drain. It’d be a waste if he was too tired to fuck a man after reddening his flesh with an arousing beating.

Harrison banished his thoughts. The only man he’d ever loved wouldn’t likely appreciate his harsh attentions. He’d been aware for a while that Adrien found him attractive, had even picked up on his occasional attempts at flirting. But from the moment he’d sought out then signed Adrien, he’d protected his career, his reputation, and had done everything in his rather extensive power to give Adrien whatever he wanted. Jumping into bed with him would’ve been irresponsible.

Neither of them had love in their lives, but both were exceedingly rich and successful. Harrison didn’t mind loving Adrien from afar, not really. He wished for more, would give almost anything to have it, but the one thing he wouldn’t do was go against Adrien’s best interests. If keeping his hands off the stunning Adrien Fury was a part of that, then so be it.

He doesn’t have time for love or relationships.

In the beginning it’d made sense. Every resource had been needed to build a superstar career. Then the offers had come in and Adrien was so busy filming and doing promo tours, there’d been time for little else. Currently, all attention had to be placed on resurrecting the great Adrien Fury to his previously exalted status.

And keeping him safe.

Harrison sucked in a sharp breath, the pain that surged through him at the slightest thought that Adrien might be harmed being almost too much for him to bear.

No one will touch him. I’ll kill them first.

bio

Morticia Knight spends most of her nights writing about men loving men forever after. If there happens to be some friendly bondage or floggings involved, she doesn’t begrudge her characters whatever their filthy little heart’s desire. Even though she’s been crafting her naughty tales for more years than she’d like to share – her adventures as a published author began in 2011. Once upon a time she was the lead singer in an indie rock band that toured the West Coast and charted on U.S. college radio. She currently resides on the northern Oregon coast and when she’s not fantasizing about hot men she takes walks along the ocean and annoys the local Karaoke bar patrons.

For more information on other books by Morticia, visit her website: www.MorticiaKnight.com

https://www.facebook.com/authormorticiaknight

https://twitter.com/MorticiaKnight

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