Matt Doyle has a new lesbian sci fi mystery out: "Shadows of the Past."
Shadows of the Past is the new novella collection set in The Cassie Tam Files universe! Enjoy two new stories that follow PI Cassie Tam and her girlfriend Lori Redwood as they deal with the fallout from LV48. This book is part of a series and needs to be read in sequence.
A Week in New Hopeland
When Lori Redwood agrees to help out her girlfriend, PI Cassie Tam, by going undercover at a local shipping firm, she gets more than she bargained for. Her ‘boss’ Mr. Graves is a misogynist and a bully, and has been targeting one girl in particular. Cassie is known to him, and he tends to be cautious around Tech Shifters. Which means that Lori may be the best person for the job.
Will Lori be able to help Cassie gather enough evidence for the police to act, or will she become the next target?
PI Cassie Tam is not the only person who lives with regrets, and like most people, she just wants to get on with her life. But in New Hopeland, the past never remains buried. When she’s hired to track a stalker that’s been using some interesting tech to mask their identity on the city’s security cameras, Cassie ends up face-to-face with her darkest memory.
Can Cassie find out who’s responsible before her past mistakes tear her – and her friends – apart?
Warnings: Contains: bullying, stalking, a deceased family member, guns, and workplace harassment
About the Series:
New Hopeland City was built to be the center of the technological age. It was supposed to be a shining example of humanity’s achievements. A beacon to guide us towards a better future. But some habits die hard. Within five years, it had become a hotbed of crime and corruption. And now, even the police are sometimes in too deep to help. That’s where I come in. My name is Cassie Tam. I’m a PI. When no one else will help, I’m the one people turn to …
I roll over in bed and let my arm flop into the empty space next to me. Even with my eyes closed, I can tell the early morning light is beginning to creep in through the window. My slightly bent leg finds a long warm spot, giving away that Cassie hasn’t been up long. I instinctively grip the bedsheet where her body would normally end and let out a content sigh.
“Mine,” I say to myself and roll onto my back again. I raise my hands to my face and rub the sleep out of my eyes, taking in the familiar sight of my bedroom as I clear the cobwebs a little. There are other things to wake me up too; new things that are becoming more familiar as time passes. Smells and sounds I don’t experience as often as I’d like. But I have to be careful, gentle even. Cassie is outwardly quite rough, but she’s softer on the inside. She’s like an emotional armadillo.
A partial conversation from last night flashes across my mind, and a smile reaches my lips. I sit up and stretch, forcing out a yawn as I glance at the back of the door. “Someone’s borrowing my robe again.”
I grab my spare from the wardrobe and tie it up, then walk down the hall, through the living room, and up to the kitchen. I rest against the doorframe, watching Cassie as she carries on oblivious to my presence. After a moment, I say, “Morning.”
Cassie jumps a little and smiles my way. She pulls gently at the sleeve of the robe and says, “Sorry, I didn’t bring mine. I wasn’t planning to stay over, but…”
“Ink can be quite persuasive, can’t she?” I nod to the frying pan on the hob and ask, “What’cha cooking?”
Cassie’s lips tighten and her nose wrinkles, making her look like a cute, frustrated, pouting bunny. She taps the bowl she’s been piling the food in. “It was supposed to be pancakes. I don’t know what went wrong, I’m normally really good with pancakes. These keep sticking, though. And burning. Maybe I didn’t use enough oil.”
“Nah, it’ll be the pan,” I reply, walking into the room and grabbing some plates from the cupboard. “And they look fine, just a little broken.”
“The pan, eh?”
“Yup. That one never was much good. Everything sticks to it, no matter what you do.”
“Huh. If it’s that bad, why keep it?”
“Sentimental reasons,” I reply and start splitting the pancakes out. “So, come on, detective, see if you can figure it out.”
“The first thing you bought for here?” she tries.
I hand her a plate and shake my head. “Nope. Try again.”
“A gift from a relative?”
“Swing and a miss,” I say and start pouring us a drink from the percolator she’s been keeping warm in preparation. “One more guess.”
She shrugs and grabs two forks from the drawer. She hands me one as she answers, “You got me.”
We walk to the living room and sit on the couch. “Well, a few years back, I was woken up by this noise in the kitchen. It must have been about three in the morning, I think. Anyway, I started panicking, right? There’s someone in the house. Who is it? What do they want? That sort of thing.
“Well, we’d been covering some home break-in stories at work, and I decided there and then I wasn’t going to be just another victim, sitting scared in my room while someone takes all my stuff. So, I got up, and creeped up to the kitchen as quietly as I could, and what did I find? Someone going through the fridge.”
“Who was it?”
“I couldn’t tell. Between tiredness, the darkness, and the fridge door being slightly closed, I couldn’t see anything at all really, other than a silhouette. So, I grabbed the first sturdy thing I could.”
“The frying pan.”
“Exactly. I grabbed it, waited for them to step back, and swung. Bam.”
“Then what happened?”
“The woman dropped her milk and starts yelling, ‘What the fuck, Lori?’ So, I turn the light on, and everything starts slotting into place. I’d been out at a club and taken this lady home. Karen, I think her name was. The problem was, I’d gotten a bit drunk and, between that and the stories we’d been covering, I’d completely forgotten she’d stayed over and had gotten a little paranoid.”
“Was she all right?” Cassie asks, staring at me in disbelief.
“She was angry more than anything. That was our one and only night together, though. But yeah, so the frying pan is sentimental for me because it reminds me that one, I shouldn’t bring people home if I met them while drunk, and two, I’m not as much of as a wuss as I thought.”
Cassie laughs. “I guess I should be happy you didn’t think I was an intruder, eh?”
I smile and kiss her forehead. “You never need to worry. If I wake up and you’re gone, I’ll just assume you’re off dealing with any intruder. And even if I did somehow forget you were staying over, I can always tell when you’re in the kitchen in the morning. You sing while you cook.”
Cassie stops mid-sip, and her eyes go wide, peering over the top of the mug. “Diu. You can hear that?”
“‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls, wasn’t it? I mean, it’s clearly a product of its era, but it’s a good track.”
“Oh, no, no, no. You weren’t meant to hear that. It’s why I stop when I hear your bedroom door open.”
I tilt my head and frown. “Really? I like it. You sound happy.”
“I am happy, but…I don’t really sing…well. Or in front of people.”
“Oh,” I reply, a little worried now. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t really notice you stopped. I always get excited to see what you’re making, so it never really occurred to me.”
“It’s fine,” she says, but I can tell she’s still embarrassed. “Anyway, it can’t be that exciting. I only use what you have in.”
“I know, but I don’t always bother myself. Usually, it’s cereal or toast if it’s just me. Work, right?”
Cassie’s shoulders relax a little and she takes another mouthful of coffee. “Oh, I get that. I’m the same at the apartment, really. I don’t usually stay here when I have a case on, so there’s rarely any rush for me in the morning when I do. I do try to get up early, though, just in case you need to head out earlier. I can make sure I still get something made for you then.”
I take a leaf from Cassie’s playbook and fail to stop the blush rising to my cheeks. If she enjoys doing it, I may as well tell her. “Okay, confession time. Sometimes, I buy a few things I know I might not have the time to cook. You know, to see if you use them when you stop over. I kinda might have noticed you enjoy cooking more than you let on. And, you know, I quite like what you put in front of me.”
I take another big mouthful of pancake to prove the point, and Cassie giggles. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises today?”
“Oh, speaking of surprises, it’s the Saturday after next, right? Your birthday?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, it is. Look, Lori, I really don’t want you to make a big deal out of it. Just something small, eh?”
I wave my hands frantically, spilling a little coffee on my knee. Good job it’s cooled down. “Absolutely. I promised I wouldn’t go overboard, so I won’t. We’ll do a stop at a café. And maybe a present or two.”
“No more than two,” she says, fixing me with a stern look.
“No more than two,” I reiterate.
“And a limit of one hundred dollars.”
“I know, I know. You never did explain why you don’t like doing too much.”
Cassie sighs and puts her empty mug down. “Okay, I guess I owe you that much at least. If you really have to know, my birthday falls exactly one week before…one week before the anniversary.”
Cassie’s dad was a cop back in Canada. He took a bullet for her during her last major case back there, and his death tore her and her mom apart. That was why she moved to New Hopeland. “I’m sorry. I knew it was coming up, but the connection didn’t click.”
She waves it away, and her walls come up a little. “It’s fine; I never told you the date. Honestly, if I didn’t want to do anything at all, I wouldn’t have told you my birthday either.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just don’t be a Nancy, okay?”
“My nan. She hated having a fuss made on her birthday, like at all. But she never told us because she didn’t want to disappoint anyone. It wasn’t until she was at death’s door that she finally came clean. Don’t be like her. If it’s too much, tell me so I can back off.”
Cassie’s face softens a little and she pulls me into a gentle kiss. “Thank you. It means a lot knowing you’d do that. It’s fine; just keep it low key. Anyway, I better get a wash and head back home. You never know when the next case will drop in your lap.”
She gets to her feet and starts walking to the door, but I can’t help myself. “An armadillo.”
She stops. “What?”
“Last night. You asked what sort of animal I thought you’d be if you were a Tech Shifter? Well, I’ve decided. An armadillo.”
“An armadillo,” she repeats. “Why?”
I gather the plates and mugs and give her a wink. “I’ll let you figure that one out.
Matt Doyle is a speculative fiction author from the UK and identifies as pansexual and genderfluid. Matt has spent a great deal of time chasing dreams, a habit which has led to success in a great number of fields. To date, this has included spending ten years as a professional wrestler, completing a range of cosplay projects, and publishing multiple works of fiction.
These days, Matt can be found working on multiple novels and stories, blogging about pop culture, and plotting and planning far too many projects.
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Pat Henshaw has a new MM holiday romance out: "Making the Holidays Happy Again."
Blacksmith Butch has secretly loved his best friend, science nerd Jimmy, since grade school. Now their shops in Old Town Seven Winds, California, are only doors from each other.
They’re about to turn thirty, and Butch refuses to wait another day to make a decision: propose to Jimmy and start the family he’s always wanted or forget his dream to avoid risking their friendship.
Why can’t the choice be as easy as creating decorative ironwork in his forge?
“Okay, what’s up?” I sat on the bench with my back against the bricks at the Old Time Pub. “You’ve been pissed since last week.”
My best friend and secret love of my life Jimmy glared but didn’t answer. We’d known each other for so long that I waited him out like usual. I crossed my pumped arms and sat back, smelling my sweat-soaked T-shirt in the AC blowing around us.
The past summer in Seven Winds, once a Gold Rush town in California’s northern Sierra Nevada mountains and now a tourist trap, had been brutal. A record number of days over one hundred degrees had turned a lot of the shop owners into snarling dogs.
As the resident blacksmith, I took the heat as business as usual. So I was hot and sweaty? I was always hot and sweaty. The day I ain’t I was either sick or dead.
I figured Jimmy’s problem was more than the heat though. He’d been acting funny lately. Like he had something caught in his craw but he couldn’t spit it out.
Jimmy wasn’t looking at me, but down at his hands. They was long and thin, completely different from mine. I had a collection of burns and scratches, scars from the forge and the tools and all.
His hands was pale white with a bunch of freckles that went with the freckles all over the rest of his body. When we was kids, the tiny red hairs on his arms stood out almost more than his carroty hair. The bright red had changed as he got older and was now more muted. Me? I’d stayed hairy brown all over.
I tapped his hand with my blunt fingers.
“Whatever it is, you know you can just spit it out.”
He stared at me, and I swear his green eyes got darker. He was making me uneasy. What the hell was wrong?
“You ever look at your life, Butch, and ask yourself, ‘Is this all there is?’” He sighed. What the fuck? What had gotten into him? “Don’t give me that look. You’ve got to know what I’m talking about.”
“Sure. But you know me. Something’s wrong, I make it right.” Takes me time but I figure it out eventually. “So, uh, what’s wrong with your life?” I wanted to make a joke and laugh, but he was too damned serious. And Jimmy’s never this serious.
“I mean, look at us. We work all day in our shops. We make good money. We got nothing to spend it on but ourselves. We go out drinking with the guys on the weekends. Or we go into the city to a game. Or we go fishing, camping, riding around.” He shook his head. “But in the end, what have we got?”
“Fun. Friendship. I don’t know. Life?” It wasn’t much of an answer. I knew where he was coming from. I figured it was because we was about to turn thirty after Christmas and it was time for us to grow up. I’d been thinking on it a lot lately.
“Don’t you want something else, Butch? Something more? Something better?” He sounded desperate, like he was drowning and I wasn’t saving him.
“Yeah, sure. I guess. I mean, I want a husband, a house, a dog, you know, stuff like we talked about when we was kids.” I’d had it mostly planned out. I’d been saving my money.
I was surprised Jimmy hadn’t already figured it out. He was usually two steps ahead of me in everything. “Okay, I gotta ask. What brought all of this on? What happened?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been sitting around thinking lately. And mom’s been on me to move out.”
His mother Hazel’s a character. She’s an old hippie with graying auburn hair and grass green eyes. Her face is a roadmap of lines cuz she spends so much time outdoors. And she worries. She thinks we need her to run our lives. We mostly let her think that even though it’s not true.
“She says she wants me to move out of the farmhouse.” Jimmy said it like it was a death sentence.
“So? Isn’t that what you always wanted to do?”
He shrugged, then nodded, reluctant like. “I guess.”
“Jimmy, you’ve always talked about living in your own place.”
Once I thought me and him would get together, and, you know, live happily ever after. But then he became a doctor of chemistry and natural medicine. I never finished high school.
“Yes, I know. You’re right. I’ve wanted to move out for a while now.” Jimmy sighed. “But this feels like her trying to push me out. I don’t like to be pushed.”
“I don’t get the problem. You know what you want already.”
He laughed. “I don’t like to be pushed by my mother.”
“So the Apple Festival is coming up, and I’m making some changes,” I said, moving on to another subject.
“Yeah? What’s up? Whare are you doing?”
“I wanna make the shop more family friendly.”
He looked at me weird.
“I don’t get it, Butch. This isn’t like you.” He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “You’re making me nervous. First my mother, now you. Why is everybody so hot to change suddenly?”
“It’s like you said.” I hunkered down, putting my elbows on the table and spreading out my hands. “I took a look at my life. I figure if I don’t do something to get settled, it ain’t gonna just fall in my lap. The Big Three Oh is the first step to the rest of my life. If I don’t get my shit together, nobody’s gonna hand my life to me. I may not know everything, but I know it’s up to me to do it myself.” I shot him a frown. “And you know it too.”
He nodded and looked like dog meat.
I may not have solved his problem of moving out or nothing like that, but maybe we was finally on the same page. Maybe.
I was making changes. He had to decide on his own life.
She wants you to remember: Every day is a good day for romance!
Author Website: http://www.pathenshaw.com
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Cole, heir to the wolf pack’s Alpha, found his fated mate but lost him soon after. Knowing they are meant to be together, Cole won’t rest until he finds Kai again.
Having finally escaped his uncle’s clutches, Kai ran as fast and as far as he could. Escape was supposed to mean freedom, but Kai found danger instead. With nowhere to go, he agrees to stay with Cole—for one month.
Cole knows he’ll have to work hard to earn Kai’s trust, but time is short and being denied the ability to claim his mate is driving him crazy. With the threat of Kai’s uncle, desperate to get him back, looming, Kai stands to lose much more than his freedom. But as he lets his guard down, he risks losing his heart to Cole.
About JR LovelessJ.R. Loveless began her adventure in writing romance at the young age of twelve. Her foray into creating her own worlds and telling her characters’ life stories was triggered by her own love of reading. She currently resides in South Florida with her two dogs and two cats, volunteers for an animal rescue in her spare time, and works as a manager for a financial lending institute. Someday she hopes to begin writing as a full-time career and bringing more of her ideas to life.
Her journey into gay romance began in 2005 when she began posting her original fiction on a forum for feedback and readers’ pleasure. In 2010, a good friend urged her to submit to a publishing company, and the day she received the acceptance and contract was the best day of her life. Since then, she has been noted to be one of the most purchased audio books after Fifty Shades of Grey on Audiobook.com, received best gay romantic fiction for Touch Me Gently in the 2011 TLA Gaybies, and even received an award for Chasing Seth in 2012.
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I received this book, which is really THREE books in one, from the publisher for a fair and honest review.
This is the first in the ongoing story of Luki Vasquez and Sonny James. These guys are very opposite men who want the same thing from life, someone who loves and accepts them for who they are. Luki and Sonny find that—and more—in each other.
Each of the books is a mystery/suspense/thriller. The books need to be read in order because there is a common thread that runs throughout the plot of all three stories.
I loved that we get the journey of Luki and Sonny alongside the mysteries they become entrenched in. I’d say these books are equal parts romance and mystery. All couples go through ups and downs, Luki and Sonny are no different. What’s great about them is they work out their personal relationship while still being able to piece together bits of clues to put a stop to some truly bad people. Like all couples they have a physical side to their relationship and it’s very well written and satisfying.
The mystery portion of the books isn’t always a big mystery and that’s what I loved the best. I’m one of those people who usually guess the culprit early on. My favorite type of story is the one where the reader is surrounded by the how and the why of the crime, not the who. It’s so much more fun to be able to experience the bad guy’s motivation along with the investigation and chase.
Things are not always easy for Luki and Sonny. They are forced to face some hard truths about life, the world in general and nothing is sugar coated in this book, which made it all that much better. Watching how they draw strength from each other through it all is beautiful.
A great read with love, sex, suspense and some truly snarky humor!
SA Collins has a new queer alt-earth sci fi book out, book one in the Cove Chronicles: "Beware Mohawks Bearing Gifts."
It’s 1847, New York. William Matthias Hallett is a fashionable dandy of the Manhattan social set. His life is laid out before him: a world of soirees, riches and luxury. Yet all he wants to do is find an adventure so deliciously wicked that it would satiate his soul for an eternity.
So, disguised in a lower-class manner, into the notorious Five Points he goes, seeking that spark of adventure. That is until it greets him in the form of his old schoolmates from Dartmouth College – a pair of Mohawk warriors who will up-end his world and all he knew it to be forever.
Set in an alternative Earth that deviates from our own known timeline, William Matthias Hallett, a Mohawk/British New York socialite and dandy, who wants very little to do with his upper-crust Manhattan set, sets out to the notorious Five Points, seeking an adventure so decidedly wicked to satiate him for a lifetime. He gets far more than he bargains for when he crosses paths with two Mohawk warriors from their days at Dartmouth college.
Thrust into an unseen war that the Mohawks and the rest of the Haudenosuanee Confederacy has been fighting for over 600 years, William must come to terms with his maternal heritage that is pressing ever forward as their newly created sovereign nation rapidly expands, isolating the burgeoning United States along the eastern seaboard and now reaching a boiling point with the new Americans.
Central to this sci-fi adventure is the creation story of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy where myth becomes reality in ways that William can scarcely imagine.
SA Collins is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:
He leaned against the doorway with a slight smile upon his face and placed the message from my sister onto the desk nearest the door.
“So, are you planning to sleep upon the floor, or will you nest down in the kitchen?”
“Just be glad the bed I have in your room is large enough for us both. You will just have a bed mate until we can rectify the situation downstairs.”
“I could always sleep on your sofa in the receiving room, Will.”
“Certainly not. If I am anything, I am a superb host. I will not have you attempting to recline on a sofa that isbarely sufficient to sit upon, let alone gain some much-needed rest.”
“Fancy little Indian, are you not?” He indicated the quality of my nightshirt and dressing robe.
“I walk in two worlds now; allow me my fashionable proclivities,” I replied as I began to change out of my clothing and into the nightshirt. For a few moments he stood there shaking his head and smirking at my nightly routine, though I did detect a blush moving across his face as I got down to my undergarments. As I pulled my shirt over my head, I noted he had slipped into the spare bedroom.
I carried the nightshirt and robe over to the spare room to join him as he began to slip off his leggings and mocs. After he shucked his shirt, I paused to appreciate the simple utility of the Haudenosaunee male wardrobe. Moments later, Joss changed from the comfort of his daily outfit into a simple loincloth suitable for sleeping, and here I struggled with overgarments, shirts, pants, undergarments, and various pieces that served only as ornamentation. I began to question for the first time the intelligence of my way of dress.
::But you wear your clothing so well. I do not judge your choice of them. This is simply what I know and have grown comfortable using. Why are you curious as to our way of dress?::
::Well, I suppose I should gain a better understanding of our people’s ways. I feel I know so little about my Mohawk life. I assume I can lean on you for that. Unless you find me a lost cause.::
::Will, have no doubt. You are Mohawk; your lineage is clear. You just have not had much in the way of guidance in our way of life. You can always turn to me for that.::
“Thank you. I cannot tell you how much that means to me. Since I came into this whole new world of the Guardians and Flintlings, I have felt little more than a leaf upon the raging river, with little hope of purchase with which to grant me some sense of security. You have provided the security I desperately need.”
“Wait here…” He gated out of the room, though to where, simply wearing his loincloth for protection against the elements, was beyond me. I did not have to wait long as he returned within a few moments with a beaded side bag in his hand. He threw it upon the bed and began to rummage through it. He extracted a beaded belt and a tightly rolled piece of blood-red cloth.
“Get out of that precious royal swaddling you have encased yourself in,” he chided me as he unrolled the cloth, revealing it to be about the length of the loincloth he was wearing. I realized he had retrieved his spare clothing, though from where I was uncertain.
Reading my musings, he replied, “I have spare clothing set aside in various places. I can retrieve them whenneeds arise. These shall be yours now.” He indicated the bag on the bed as much as the belt and loincloth he held.
“Oh, Joss…” I gasped, filled with awe at his offering, knowing that to refuse would deeply mar our new relationship. Not something I was willing to risk, given our being inextricably bound to each other.
Forgetting my near nakedness, I knelt upon the bed, running gentle fingers over them, and watched as he completed the folding around the back of the belt. A small smile broke over his face, bringing his eyes to light.Clearly, he was most happy in his offering. I only wished I had something to offer in exchange. As if hearing mythoughts, he had a reply. “Just your wearing it will be more than enough,” he murmured as he
handed me the garment. “Come, let us have you try it on.” “I am afraid you will have to help me out a bit.”
Shortly thereafter, I found myself wearing my first Mohawk loincloth. My slightly burnished alabaster skin, witha dusting of freckles along my muscular shoulders that mellow as they wend their way over my bare torso, standing in stark contrast to the rich colored fabric of the loincloth.
He placed two gentle hands on my shoulders as we regarded my reflection in the mirror. I felt him course along our link with such gratitude and care that I was undone by his gesture.
Joss beamed, watching me take root in my heritage, pleased he could do this for me. After sheathing myself in some of the finest material and clothing the world could offer, I was amazed at how much comfort, both in movement and luxury, this simple natural garment afforded me.
He pulled out the leggings, a pair of mocs, and a shirt. After another few moments, I was fully clothed in my maternal heritage clothing. A sense of pride seemed to swell within me that I had not anticipated. I nearly wept from thesensation. I know Joss did not miss my eyes misting up from the transformation at his hands.
“Joss, I never knew just how comfortable these really are.”
“You wear them well; as if you were born to them,” he added with a bright grin, no doubt pleased with himself.
I paused, turning this way and that, before bringing Joss into a tight embrace, so thankful for his offering. He moved his head from my shoulder to place my forehead against his, his hands on either side of my face, gently holding me there.
::Like this, Ohnehta’kowa. When it matters most, this is how we share that moment.::
I nodded, thankful for his teaching and his generosity. I knew, being so linked with him, our intimacy would be something I needed to embrace and let flow. It was a part of who we are. If I were truly honest, I longed for it to go on into the night; spending this singular touching moment with him and to share it thusly shattered what I knew about myself and the world around me. Joss sensed this and gradually broke contact between us. I felt bewildered and in aslight stupor for the loss of him. I needed to regroup.
“Yes, well, now to bed, eh?”
SA “Baz” Collins hails from the San Francisco Bay Area where he lives with his husband and Zorro, a character of a cat. A classically trained singer/actor (under a different name), Baz knows a good yarn when he sees it.
Based on years of his work as an actor, Baz specializes in character study pieces. It is more important for him that the reader comes away with a greater understanding of the characters and the reasons they make the decisions they do, rather than the situations they are in. It is this deep dive into their manners, their experiences and how they process the world around them that make up the body of Mr. Collins’ work.
You can find his works at sacollins.com, violetquillredux.com and as a co-host of the wrotepodcast.com series.
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Mary Rundle has a new MM paranormal book out in her Blackwood Pack series: "White Knight."
The Blackwood Pack saga continues…
This is part of an on-going series by Amazon International Bestselling Author, Mary Rundle – catching up on previous titles is advised. Readers of the past books will enjoy meeting old friends once more as the pack does what it does best ̶ caring for one another and helping shifters everywhere.
Hunter always expected to be the next Alpha of the Rolling Hills Pack until he had to walk away, leaving behind his dream, forced to build a new life for himself and his brothers. Arriving with them to visit his cousins at the Blackwood Pack, he never expects to find his mate there, but when he catches his scent, it’s impossible for him to concentrate on anything else, including a secret he has that will change his cousins’ lives.
From the moment Hunter meets Jackson, tempers flare between the two Alphas as their anger builds about secrets both are keeping. Their distrust of each other grows yet they must struggle to find common ground due to their mutual responsibilities toward Hunter’s mate.
Fionn, a rare white dragon, has fought hard for his independence, believing it will protect him from relatives who want to seize his hoard. As a recent member of the Blackwood Pack, he looks forward to sharing the future with his new family. That is, until he realizes he has a mate. Needing time to sort out his feelings, he flees to his hoard, hiding from Hunter who impatiently waits for him.
Together, Fionn and Hunter must put aside past hurts and disappointments as they try to forge a new world for themselves while facing a dangerous threat to Fionn…and to the rest of the Blackwood Pack.
Long-kept secrets, a treacherous attack, an action-packed rescue, and many unexpected twists and turns make this passionate love story by Mary Rundle impossible to put down once you’ve read the first page.
Mary is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour. Enter via Rafflecopter:
Fuckingbedamned! Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he saw the flaring of Hunter’s nose. No fucking way! Flicking his gaze down, he found the telltale bulge confirming his suspicion. His cousin’s mate was one of his pack members. What the fuck do I do now? Jackson’s lingering suspicions about why Hunter had contacted him now after all these years assumed greater importance now. Not wanting to see who his cousin was staring at, he rolled out his Alpha power, just enough to bring Hunter’s attention back to him. “It’s been a long time, Cousin.”
Holy Fuck! How did Jackie do that? Force to look at his cousin, Hunter found himself unable to move. “Yes it has,” he replied. “I understand congratulations are in order.”
“Congratulations? What for?” asked Jackson.
“Becoming Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, of course,” Hunter answered.
Wondering how much his cousin knew, Jackson decided to ignore it. Instead, he asked, “Are you going to introduce your brothers to me?”
“Sure,” Hunter replied, anxious to know the name of his mate, continued, “However, that is quite a welcoming group you have for us considering you claim you didn’t know we were coming today. Do you mind introducing me to them first?”
Standing next to Logan on the porch, Kieran watched the unfolding scene of the two Alphas posturing, but suddenly his spirit spoke to him, causing him to run down the steps, towards Jackson.
“Babe! Wait! What are you doing?” called Logan, torn between following his mate or obeying Jackson’s orders to remain where he was. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“Macushla, I’m needed! Don’t worry!” Kieran yell, sprinting towards the motorhome.
Asking their spirit what his mate was doing, Logan gasped, his jaw dropping. Not believing what he was told, Logan leaped off the porch, wanting to stop Kieran from entering the motorhome. “Wait, babe wait! Jackson, stop Kieran,” he shouted.
Hearing his brother’s instructions, Jackson turned his head, breaking eye contact with Hunter. A quick glance, Jackson realized why his brother had yelled at him when he saw Kieran was already opening the door of the motorhome. “Kieran, stop!” Jackson pushed more of his Alpha power out, commanding Logan’s mate to obey.
Now free of the control of Jackson’s Alpha power, Hunter followed his cousin’s gaze and saw someone was attempting to enter his motorhome. Not know who it was, he threw out his Alpha power and ordered “Stop now!”
Pausing as the power from both Alphas temporarily froze him, Kieran shook his head as his spirt broke him free of their hold. Wrenching the door open, he entered the motorhome and came face to face with three pairs of eyes, staring at him in astonishment. “Hi cousins, nice to meet you but if you don’t mind, can we talk later because I am needed.” Hurrying to the first door Kieran found, he popped it open, then said, “Hi there. Don’t you look fabulous! I love your dress but can we talk later. Thanks.” Closing the door, he hurried to the next one. Placing his hand on it, he knew this is where he was supposed to be. Quietly opening the door, he slipped inside. “Hi, don’t worry, I’m here to help…” he said, closing the door behind him.
“Who the fuck was that?” asked Sawyer.
“How did he know?” Robin asked.
“Oh shit,” Mason said, looking at the big shifter who just joined Jackson and Hunter. “This doesn’t look good.”
Stopping next to Jackson, Logan asked, “Why didn’t you stop Kieran?”
“Who’s Kieran?” asked Hunter, “And why did he break into my home?”
“Fuck you, asshole!” Logan snarled.
“Logan, stop,” Jackson ordered.
“Logan?” Hunter asked, astounded at how big his cousin’s twin was. The last time he had seen Logan, he was a skinny short kid.
“Logan, meet Hunter, our cousin,” Jackson said.
Giving his cousin an angry glance, Logan then turned back to his brother. “Bro, I need to speak to you—alone!”
At a loss for what the hell was going on, Hunter decided to retreat. “I understand. I’ll just be in there, finding out about who decided to invite himself into my home without permission, I might add.”
“You touch my mate and it will be the last thing you ever do,” snarled Logan.
“Your mate? That twink is your mate?” asked Hunter incredulously.
Seeing red at the implied insult of his mate, Logan began to shift, having had enough of his cousin and his attitude towards Kieran.
Glancing up at the motorhome, Jackson saw fear and anger in the faces staring back at him and instantly knew what would happen if he didn’t put a stop to the brewing conflict. Sending out his Alpha power at full strength, he waited until his brother and his cousins tilted their heads in submission. “Hunter, you are to remain where you are while I speak to my brother alone. Understand?”
“Yes, Alpha,” Hunter said. Feeling Jackson’s control, he stood still, watching his cousins walk away from him, smirking at their attempt to keep him from listening with his wolf hearing. Shifting his gaze, Hunter sought out the man on the porch who was tied to him by the Fates, wondering what his cousin would say when he took his Fated Mate back east.
Once Jackson felt he and Logan was far enough away from Hunter, he stopped and said, “Okay, what is Kieran up to now?”
Glancing over his brother’s shoulder, Logan made sure Hunter wasn’t heading to the motorhome before leaning in and whispering in his brother’s ear.
Jerking back, Jackson stared at Logan. “You’re wrong! It’s impossible!”
Shaking his head, Logan leaned in again, whispering again in reply to his brother’s disbelief.
Jackson’s face drained of color as the implications of Logan’s news became apparent to him. Turning, he faced the porch and zeroed in on Dakota, knowing the effect this news would have on him could affect his pup’s life. Turning back to Logan, Jackson murmured, “Are you absolutely positive?”
The first book I ever wrote was Dire Warning in 2017 and, much to my delight, it became an Amazon Best Seller. Readers loved it and I was on my way to chronicling the Blackwood Pack, seven brothers who are gay wolf shifters in search of their fated mates– stories about love at first sight with twists and turns, angst and humor, romance and adventure and, of course, happy endings.
I love the M/M paranormal genre because it gives my imagination a lot of territory in which to roam. My mind can really run wild and come up with some amazing stuff when it doesn’t have to stay inside the box.
My readers tell me they feel like they’re a member of the pack as the stories unfold. As if they’re right there in the middle of the action. Others tell me it’s like watching a fast-paced movie. My writing style pulls no punches– readers love it and are always clamoring for the next book.
Stories come to me as if they were being channeled by my characters, all of whom I love (except for a few villains). They are eager to recount their lives, loves and adventures and are not inhibited when it comes to revealing steamy details.
I currently live in the Northeast and love the beautiful change of seasons, my husband, and our quirky calico cat, though not necessarily in that order. I’m always happy to hear from my readers and can be reached through Facebook, Twitter, MeWe, or my website.
Author Website: http://www.maryrundle.com
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Blurb: A gentle bartender might have what it takes to mend a relationship-phobic detective’s broken heart… but first they have to admit they’re dating.
Keenan Day could kick himself for letting the hot, dark-haired stranger he met outside a strip club get away. Instead of a phone number, he gets a punch in the face—from the boyfriend of his prospective employer at the Cowboys and Angels bar. When two cops come to check up on him, one is the sexy stranger, Detective Nate Gordon.
The initial attraction hasn’t cooled, and though Nate is leery of commitment, one hookup turns into another until they’re seeing each other in everything but name. After a recent nasty breakup, Nate balks at being part of a couple, and Keenan agrees, even though that’s all he’s ever wanted.
Just as they reach a standstill, a crisis shows them what their friends have known all along—they’ve already moved way past hookups. Now they just have to decide how to move forward.
In the end they all got hot dogs, including Tucker. The afternoon was wonderful and neither of them felt like sitting in a pizzeria when they could be enjoying the sunshine. Fortunately, most people were at work, and Tucker had to stay on a leash, so it was a sedate amble eating their food until they reached a shady spot under a tree outside a playground.
Keenan sank down and offered Tucker the hot dog they had bought special for him. Two seconds later, Tucker licked his chops.
“I guess the five-second rule doesn’t apply to him,” Keenan observed.
“Nope. Tucker lives on the “see it, eat it” diet. All food is fair game.” Nate finished the last of his fully loaded hot dog.
“He must get a lot of exercise to keep the weight off.”
“He does now Uncle Nate is in town.”
Nate leaned forward, ran a finger up Keenan’s chin, and offered it to him—mustard and onion. Keenan curled his tongue around Nate’s finger and licked it clean. Just the act went straight to Keenan’s cock. He looked up to see Nate staring at his mouth, his eyes dark. Keenan licked the last trace of mustard and pulled back.
“Damn,” Nate breathed.
What he said. Keenan was hot under the collar. He licked his lips again, and Nate’s eyes darkened. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Keenan spotted Tucker inching closer to his hot dog.
“Mine,” he said and stuffed the rest of it in his mouth.
Now available on Kindle Unlimited and coming soon in paperback!
Relationships aren’t in the cards for everyone and Vladimir ‘Val’ Mihalic figures maybe, in his case it’s for the best. After ending the last in a string of abusive relationships, Val has spent the past year living alone, single and fear free. He’s got a good job at Churchill Downs, a place for him, his three dogs and his horse to live the quiet life. When his best friend, Janelle, is seriously injured in a carjacking, putting her career as a jockey on hold, Val steps up to help her through the crisis. When Janelle’s estranged father shows up at Val’s front door, Val’s life, and his resolve to stay relationship free takes a hard sideways turn.
Wyatt Harig always wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life, their estrangement was forced on them both. When she’s seriously injured, he knows things have to change and he’s the only one who can make that change. He gets to Kentucky to find his daughter unwillingly neck deep in an elaborate gambling scheme that’s led to murder. What he also finds is Janelle’s best friend and roommate, Val, a kindhearted, alluring man twenty years his junior.
Val is a little happier than he’d thought he’d be when Wyatt stays and starts digging deeper for the truth about Janelle’s ‘accident’. As they uncover layer after layer of the events leading up to that fateful day, they build a solid friendship. That friendship combined with a mutual physical attraction have the potential to turn to love. Uncovering the truth and exposing conmen and murderers puts what’s just begun between Val and Wyatt as well as their lives, in jeopardy.
J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer sci fi book out, the final book in his Liminal Sky trilogy: "The Shoreless Sea." And books one and two are on sale!
As the epic trilogy hurtles toward its conclusion, the fight for the future isn’t over yet. It could lead to a new beginning, or it might spell the end for the last vestiges of humankind.
The generation ship Forever has left Earth behind, but a piece of the old civilization lives on in the Inthworld—a virtual realm that retains memories of Earth's technological wonders and vices. A being named Lilith leads the uprising, and if she succeeds in setting its inhabitants free, they could destroy Forever.
But during the generation ship's decades-long voyage, humanity has evolved. Liminals with the ability to connect with the world mind and the Inthworld provide a glimmer of hope. They'll have to face not only Lilith’s minions, but also the mistrust of their own kind and persecution from a new government as homotypicals continue to fear what they can't understand.
The invasion must be stopped, the Inthworld must be healed, and the people of Forever must let go of their past and embrace what they’re meant to become.
Humankind is on its way to the stars, a journey that will change it forever. Each of the stories in Liminal Sky explores that future through the lens of a generation ship, where the line between science fiction and fantasy often blurs. At times both pessimistic and very hopeful, Liminal Sky thrusts you into a future few would ever have imagined.
The eBook for book one in the Liminal Sky trilogy, "The Stark Divide," is just 99¢, and book two, "The Rising Tide," is $1.99 at all vendors:
Scott is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour, along with three eBook sets of his Oberon Cycle trilogy. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:
Kiryn Hammond-Clarke floated in the darkness of space, stars he’d never seen in person twinkling against the velvety black depths.
The voice came to him from out of nowhere. “Can anyone hear me?”
In his dreams, he could hear. Like when Belynn let him ride in her mind.
The voice repeated, sounding stretched and thin. “Is anyone out there?”
In the distance, a single star glowed brighter than all the others, though it was still just a small golden dot.
Kiryn reached out toward the light, his hand naked to the cold of the void.
Ice crystals formed on his arm, hardening it in place. The cold reached into his bones like knives of frozen glass. It raced up his bicep, the burning cold fire of the void.
He snatched back his arm, but he was too late. The freezing grip reached his heart, and he screamed silently--
Kiryn awoke with a start, sitting up in bed in his dorm room drenched with sweat. He ran his hands through his dark hair, letting them come to rest clasped behind his head.
First Light flashed past in the trees outside his window, brightening up the room.
The world was utterly silent.
The silence, his constant companion since birth, was particularly soothing after his rude awakening. It wrapped itself around him like a blanket, a suit of armor, a barrier between him and the hustle and bustle of the outside world.
Between him and emotion.
He held his arm out for inspection, half expecting it to be blackened by the void. Instead, it looked perfectly normal. Warm and tan, halfway between his mothers’ sepia and white skin tones.
He shivered at the memory.
The bed moved under him, and his date from the night before sat up, his mouth moving soundlessly.
The man was handsome, a Thyrean sent to the university at Micavery for his higher schooling—long limbs, blond hair shaved short, warm brown eyes.
His name was Dax. Or Zack. Or something.
Kiryn’s lipreading was decent, but he hadn’t bothered to spend too much time learning this one’s name. Dax or Zack hadn’t seemed to mind much.
Kiryn pointed at his ear and shook his head.
The man’s mouth closed, and he blushed. “Sorry. I forgot.”
That one was easy enough to read.
He grabbed the piece of cotton paper and a pencil Kiryn kept at his bedside just for that purpose and scribbled something out longhand, then handed it over to him.
It’s Dax. And are you okay?
Kiryn stared at him. Did you just read my mind? Maybe there was a little Liminal in him. He laughed, wondering not for the first time what it sounded like from the outside. It felt clunky and awkward on the inside.
He sighed and took the paper and pencil.
Dax’s hand lingered over his for an extra second before letting go.
Bad dream. Class in fifteen minutes. He hesitated, then scribbled, Dinner?
Dax took the paper, and a grin lit up his face. His eager nod needed no translation. I work at the hatchery until six. Meet me there?
Kiryn nodded and grinned.
Dax slipped out of bed and pulled on his trousers and white shirt, the V-neck showing off his chest to perfection.
Kiryn sat back with his hands behind his head, admiring the view.
He leaned over, kissed Kiryn on the cheek, and mouthed, “See you.”
When Dax left, Kiryn grabbed a change of clothes and headed down the hall to the dorm bathroom. He hopped into the shower, using the aromatic red berry soap bar his mom and mamma had sent him from the Estate. The smell transported him, and he closed his eyes and imagined himself standing among the long, even rows of red berry vines that arched across the hillsides.
His parents worried about him, out here alone, but it was Andy who had insisted he go.
When Kiryn had been born congenitally and profoundly deaf, Andy and Shandra had learned sign language from the world mind in vee.
There were so few other deaf people in Forever. So few like him.
The day before he was set to leave for university, to catch the public wagon headed for Darlith and then Micavery, he’d had a huge panic attack.
His parents had sat him down along with his sister, Belynn:
“I’m scared. Why do I have to go away?” He was fidgeting, nervous.
“You have to go. There’s nothing here for you.” Andy indicated the Estate, where the family had built a thriving agricultural business on the backs of Trip’s and Colin’s earlier work.
“You’re here.” His hands signed it while his knee bounced up and down.
Andy shook her head. “This is our place. You need to go.”
He flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was such a burden.”
“No.” That was emphatic. “That’s not what I meant. We don’t want you to get trapped here, working on the Estate for the rest of your life. There’s a whole world out there for you to explore.” She looked up at Shandra, who nodded.
“I’ll go with him,” Belynn said and signed it at the same time, but he could hear her inside his head too.
Mom could do that, too, of course, but she had to touch him to do it.
“You’re not ready.” Shandra glared at Belynn and shook her head.
“I’ve been with Kiryn in every vee class since I was born. I’m only two years younger than he is. Let me go with him to help.”
Kiryn frowned. He wasn’t sure he wanted his little sister tagging along after him, cramping his style. If he decided to go.
Belynn’s hand found his, palm to palm, and he could feel her emotions. We can take care of each other. That thought was private, just for him, inside his head.
Andy looked at Shandra. “They could take care of each other.” She echoed Belynn’s thought and touched Shandra’s hand. Something passed between them.
Shandra looked at him and then at Belynn, uncertainty clear on her face. “We could… try it.”
Belynn squeezed his hand. “Yes!”
“For a semester.” Andy kissed Shandra on the forehead.
Kiryn thought about it. It would be nice to have someone close by, just in case. Someone who really knew him. “Okay.” And it would be a lot less scary.
Now he was here, and Belynn wouldn’t be far behind.
Where are you, big brother? Belynn’s insistent voice.
I’ll be back in a minute. He pulled the towel from its wooden peg, dried off his hair and shoulders.
A couple of the other guys in the dorm, Stave and Trevor, waved on their way to their own showers. Cute as hell, but straighter than the old antenna on Micavery’s village green. Well, except when Stave got drunk on red berry wine….
Kiryn grinned. He pulled on his trousers and shirt and padded back to his room. Belynn was waiting for him on his bed. “How did you get in?” he signed.
They touched palms, the emotions flowing between them and synching.
“Easy. Aric at the front desk is a sucker for a pretty girl.”
“Like I said, how did you get in?”
She stuck out her tongue at him. “Come on. We’re going to be late.” She tugged him off the bed, and Kiryn barely had time to grab his carry sack before she had him out the door and down the hall.
Scott lives between the here and now and the what could be. Indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine, he devoured her library. But as he grew up, he wondered where the people like him were.
He decided it was time to create the kinds of stories he couldn’t find at Waldenbooks. If there weren’t gay characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.
His friends say Scott’s brain works a little differently – he sees relationships between things that others miss, and gets more done in a day than most folks manage in a week. He seeks to transform traditional sci fi, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something unexpected.
A Rainbow Award winning author and Science Fiction Writer’s Association (SFWA) member, he runs Queer Sci Fi and QueeRomance Ink with his husband Mark, sites that bring queer people together to promote and celebrate fiction reflecitng their own reality.
Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com
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Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ/
What are ten things about Doug Porter that people should know?
M.D Neu has a new MM paranormal/alternate universe book out: T.A.D - The Angel of Death.
Tad loves bouncing around in time and watching mankind grow and change. He loves humanity and helping when he can. However, his job isn’t conducive to helping people. He’s an Angel of Death.
Doug is fun loving and a drama queen. Despite his witty exterior, he has a dark history and is prone to self-destruction. He’s also an amazing drag queen and hairstylist with big dreams.
When Tad pushes the boundaries of his duties too far, his angel wings are stripped away from him, and he is sent to New York City to live as a human. Lost and alone he ends up meeting Doug, and the two start a friendship that will shape them both and last a lifetime. But nothing is simple when you’re dealing with a former Angel of Death and a Drag Queen. Could these two cause the fabric of our world to collapse or will they manage to keep the future as it should?
Marvin is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this reveal and tour. Enter via Rafflecopter:
Doug glanced up at the big void where the buildings once stood.
How could anyone do that? All those people, and for what? Thank God, no one I know was there. Thank goodness, Garret’s train was running late. Even from across the river, seeing the buildings fall, one minute there, the next not, awful. Not knowing if Garret was alive or dead. The not knowing was awful, and it seemed to last forever. Then getting his call when the phones were back up. It was a relief. Still, the not knowing? Horrible. How do survivors do it?
Doug shuddered. He had to look away before he started to cry again. That day. The world wasn’t the same. How could it be? Would it ever be the same again? He swiped at his eyes, keeping the tears he was trying to hold back from dropping. He caught his reflection in one of the storefront windows and fussed with his blond spiky hair.
The months right after the attack had been hell for everyone. People from all over the world sent support and offered help. But New York was moving on, as it should. They already had seven different architects offering new designs to fill the empty skyline. Mayor Giuliani was doing everything he could for the city, and there was even talk of him running for president.
Doug checked his flip phone and picked up his pace. He was running late. He shouldn’t have spent the night at Tim’s, but leaving such a sexy guy was no easy task. Not to mention they might have partied too much.
I doubt that is even possible. You can never party too much.
There was a large group of mourners, and he had to step to the side to let them pass. He took a deep cleansing breath, pushing all thoughts from his mind, and started walking again. He rushed past the families and friends heading to Ground Zero. Now he had to hustle to make it to work. He’d gotten lucky no one he was familiar with was killed. Still, every time he thought about the attack and looked up at the twin lights filling the night sky, he wanted to cry.
Why President Bush didn’t blow up the whole of the Middle East after the attack, Doug would never understand. Instead, the president sent troops to Afghanistan, searching for Osama bin Laden and taking out Al-Qaeda.
Just as long as they find and kill the monsters who did this to us.
Doug couldn’t help but stop again and glance up to where the twin towers once stood. He quickly wiped at his eyes. “I need to get out of here.” He moved over to the brick façade and leaned against the wall as more people passed him, heading to the memorial ceremony.
“So much suffering and for what?” Doug mumbled. He started walking again, taking a deep breath and trying to avoid the crowds. A woman in a dark jacket passed him and bumped his shoulder, causing him to step closer to an alley. She didn’t bother saying anything; however, Doug thought she said something about his size. He caught his reflection again. He hated how everything made him feel so fat. Nothing he wore looked right on him. Even the baggy pants still made him look fat and messy. He would need to start at the gym if he wanted to continue dating Tim and keep up with his partying. He frowned.
At least I have good hair.
He played with the spikes of his hair.
“It’s my fault,” a gruff voice whispered from behind him.
Doug startled and turned around, but no one was there. He glanced over to the dumpster.
Sitting there, a raggedy black man, with kinky hair in desperate need of a cut and wash, stared at him. The man had the most beautiful green eyes Doug had ever seen. The rich tones of his skin really made his eyes pop, quite possibly the unkempt man’s best feature. The man was in shambles, and tears streamed down his dirty cheeks.
The anniversary affects everyone.
“I did this,” the man groaned through his sobs. “And now I’m being punished.”
Doug wasn’t sure what to do or say. Should he walk away and get to the salon? Leave what appeared to be the crazy homeless guy alone? Could he do that now that they made eye contact? Could he do that today of all days? The man needed help. The man needed a shower and clean clothes. Perhaps, if he talked to him, that would be enough…well, the talk and ten bucks.
That’s what Shannon would do. Talk to him and give him money. Shannon was such a kind soul, and I need to be more like him, more like he was. To honor him. Just like my drag name. Maybe Miss Enshannon needs to be more. I need to be more.
Doug’s heart ached at the memories of Shannon and how wonderful he was. When he picked his drag name there was no doubt on what it would be, but to honor someone you loved had to be more than using their name.
“It’s not your fault.” He knelt close to the man, still keeping his distance just in case. “It was the work of terrorists. They killed all those people, not you.”
“I should have stopped them. I should have done more,” the dirty man moaned.
“Oh, baby, no one could have done more,” Doug offered. Some people thought the government knew about the attack beforehand and the president allowed it to happen. Doug didn’t buy it. Why anyone listened to these people was beyond him, but they did. He just wished they would shut up and crawl back under the rocks they came from. They weren’t helping anyone, and in the long run, their remarks and comments only hurt people more.
“Now, I’m being punished. They sent me here and took my wings,” the man whispered.
Was this guy a pilot? Oh, that would be awful. I bet he was supposed to fly one of the planes, and he couldn’t take it. Survivor’s guilt.
M.D. Neu is a queer Fiction Writer with a love for writing and travel. Living in the heart of Silicon Valley (San Jose, California) and growing up around technology, he’s always been fascinated with what could be. Specifically drawn to Science Fiction and Paranormal television and novels, M.D. Neu was inspired by the great Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, Stephen King, Alice Walker, Alfred Hitchcock, Harvey Fierstein, Anne Rice, and Kim Stanley Robinson. An odd combination, but one that has influenced his writing.
Growing up in an accepting family as a gay man he always wondered why there were never stories reflecting who he was. Constantly surrounded by characters that only reflected heterosexual society, M.D. Neu decided he wanted to change that. So, he took to writing, wanting to tell good stories that reflected our diverse world.
When M.D. Neu isn’t writing, he works for a non-profit and travels with his biggest supporter and his harshest critic, Eric his husband of twenty plus years.
Author Website: http://www.mdneu.com
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Welcome to My World