Emotion in Motion - Thoughts and Things Blog

Rainbow Snippets 5/10/26

Sun, 10 May 2026 09:30:00 GMT

My snippet for this week is from Electric Candle, book 2 of
The Sleepless City. (series cowritten with Anne Barwell).

The instant Blair’s tongue coursed across the pale, white blemishes, flames erupted in his mind’s eye. Forge was bound to something Blair couldn’t make out. Silver bindings twisted around his wrists. Though he was weak, Forge writhed and struggled, his screams eventually turning to low moans. Simon burst through the fire along with the man Blair repeatedly saw with Forge. They ran to Forge. Terror turned to relief at the sight of the stranger.

“Who’s that…?” Blair’s words were cut off by Forge’s tongue in his mouth.

There are more diverse snippets in the
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Electric Candle is available in eBook, paperback and
through Kindle Unlimited.

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What to Read This Weekend!

Sat, 09 May 2026 13:51:54 GMT

Daniel stepped back up to Kyle, pulled him close, and pressed his mouth to Kyle’s, tongue sliding inside with ease. His other hand wormed between them, found one of Kyle’s nipples, and circled it with light, teasing strokes. “Not the only reason,” he exhaled as he broke their kiss.
He released Kyle, who was breathing hard and leaning into him. Grinning, Daniel slipped out the door before the kid came up with any other distractions. He was almost immediately hit with cold, crisp air. Walking out to the fencing surrounding his, their, building, Daniel stuck his hands in his pockets and nearly doubled over laughing.

One pocket had a half-eaten chocolate bar wrapped in foil. No doubt put in there by Kyle. Three months ago, when he’d accidentally found Kyle while on a routine patrol, Daniel was the guy who had no attachments, lived his life alone, and wanted no one close. Then he’d brought Kyle here and the guy who was half-man, half-child had ingrained himself into every fiber of Daniel’s being and every tiny bit of his life.

Listening to the sounds of the lake water slapping the shore, Daniel checked the gates, grabbing hold and giving them a rattle to convince himself they were securely locked. His orderly life had been upended by Kyle; there were signs of him all over the building, in his Jeep, even in his pockets.

Lately he wondered how he’d gotten along without Kyle before.

Walking slowly to the back of the building, he double checked the security system, ensuring it was functioning properly while replaying their most recent mission in his mind.

He and Kyle had gone out with a team on a mission, returning early since it appeared to be a bust. They’d found their targeted facility, gotten in and out without incident or the data they’d been sent to retrieve. Their entire team was puzzled.

Daniel sighed and leaned against the fencing, gazing out at the choppy lake. The whole thing had been off. At least Kyle had stopped pestering to be included on assault teams and was content to be part of the surveillance team. Daniel had enough pull that they were always on the same missions. Some couples preferred to work separate missions, some did not.

He rubbed at the back of his neck when he realized he was now and had been for a while thinking of Kyle in terms of his partner; they were a couple.

As he’d gained Kyle’s trust, he learned more of his background. The plague had hit around the same time Kyle’d been born, and as a result he, like so many of his age group, had been taken from his parents to be raised in a secure location, educated as needed, and tested for reproductive abilities, though sterility was always the answer to the tests. Daniel, when he thought about it, chalked Kyle’s almost immediate attachment to him up to the fact he’d saved Kyle from a situation completely alien to anything he’d experienced before. Daniel had likely been the first person to really care about Kyle, offer him friendship and affection.

Not that Daniel minded. In fact he was damn happy about it.

What Kyle had discovered proved he wasn’t among the youngest generation of humans left and that the population hadn’t become entirely sterile. Daniel could still see, quite clearly, the pictures Kyle had given him in those first few days. Compounds with playgrounds, schools—children. Young children, most less than age ten, he’d guessed. Dozens of them.

They’d come from somewhere, so Daniel was betting reproducing couples were being kept in secret locations as well. Everything their government had told the general population for at least the past decade was a lie, or at least a half-truth. It explained why they wanted Kyle dead. Daniel was also willing to bet the compound they had pictures of wasn’t the only one.

Daniel’s initial desire to simply protect this young man and prepare him for life outside a government facility, teach him to fight and survive, had turned into a deep, powerful love between them. If it’d been someone else, he’d have told them to stop thinking the kid would hang around very long, that Kyle was feeling nothing but a crush for someone who’d saved him one cold night. That wasn’t what had happened, however. Kyle seemed to grow warmer, more loving, and more attached every passing day.

If he’d have to suffer a life without Kyle, Daniel knew now he’d have no life at all.

Strays is available in eBook, through Kindle Unlimited
and from your local library digital catalog.

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Tuesday Teaser 5/5/2026

Tue, 05 May 2026 14:45:22 GMT

Forge took off his sunglasses and carefully scrutinized the body. Wasn’t it his luck an alleged soulmate showed up in Boggslake to disrupt Forge’s life but, judging from how he felt right then, was also possibly hanging around a murder scene?

“I hope it’s not starting up again,” he grumbled. The thought that Forge’s soulmate could be a killer was shoved away.

“You know we’ve never tied any of the missing persons or unsolved murders together.” Stewie leaned over Forge’s shoulder.

“Uh-huh.” Forge stood and moved out of the way of Lucas’s team. “They must be connected. This isn’t the first victim found like this.” Stewie and Lucas nodded. “I’m betting Lucas will find no sign of a struggle and that he had sex not long before he died.”

Forge wasn’t sure why, or what caused it, but the hair along the back of his neck rose, and there was a slight tingle across his scalp. He took a careful look around the area. Partway down the street, standing in the space between two homes, a man was watching them.

A man who reminded him of Declan and was everything Forge found alluring. The second he saw Forge watching him, the man ducked behind the farthest house.

“What?” Stewie asked. “See something?”

“Maybe. I’m going to check it out.” Forge jogged toward the spot where he’d seen the guy. The same young man showing up in front of the bookstore and now here in less than an hour and at a murder scene was too much of a coincidence. Forge had some questions to ask.

Forge glanced over his shoulder. No one was paying attention to him. Everyone was occupied with the body. He covered the distance to where the young man had been in less than half the time it would have taken the fastest human runner. The backyards on this street overlooked Lake Erie and all of them had steps going down to the water’s edge.

The lush green carpet of grass was sprinkled with what remained of flower and vegetable gardens. There was an assortment of lawn furniture, and one nearby yard had a child’s play area. He kept to the yards without fencing around them and headed toward the closest set of steps.

“He must have gone down here,” Forge said and rubbed the back of his head. It was possible the guy had darted into a garage or house, but Forge’s gut was telling him no. Moving as quickly as possible without slipping on the stone steps and ending up going down on his ass, Forge made his way to the beach.

Declan had been a fur trapper when he’d first come to the New World and later passed on his considerable tracking skills to Forge. In a way, it was Declan who’d taught Forge many of the skills he used as a detective. This day, he was an irritated detective. He was already feeling he’d lost track of a possible suspect.

No one was there, yet Forge couldn’t shake the feeling he wasn’t alone. He wandered down the beach a few yards. Water splashing against the shore and spraying up made him go closer for a better look. The lake’s edge here wasn’t gently sloping sand but a sharp lip of concrete. Hunkering on the ledge, Forge leaned over for a look.

The wall ran a good half mile in either direction. He could see large spots that were darker than the surrounding area. Forge had read about the secret rooms constructed all along Lake Erie during Prohibition. At one time illegal booze and guns were stashed in them. One could only access the rooms by going under water. At high tide, many of the outer parts of the rooms were completely submerged. He’d never been in one.

More than likely he’d have to get wet to justify the expense of divers. Forge was still contemplating getting a dive team when he heard shouting.

“Stop. Wait!”

The voice sounded familiar, but Forge couldn’t place it. That always annoyed him. Turning, he looked up at the top of the stairs. Then he squinted and shook his head. The voice’s owner made Forge stare in a type of horrified wonder, like one looked at a train wreck.

The fact his cock picked then to persistently remind him of its presence with a few twitches and throbs didn’t help.

It was a man, though the dread Forge was feeling might have been less if it’d been a woman. The guy wore what appeared to be homemade steampunk goggles with dark lenses, a long-sleeved black shirt, and black jeans.

“Sweet mother of God, is that a cape?” Forge muttered and took a few steps forward. “No, stop, don’t—”

His warning was too late. The oddly dressed man began to run down the steps—the slippery, wet steps, waving his arms. He’d gone about three steps when his feet slid out from under him and his rear hit the stone stairs. The man yelped, and Forge’s cock gave another twitch. He had the fleeting thought of how disturbing on several levels that was.

“What the hell?” Forge ran to the bottom of the stairs.

Bouncing head over heels down the steps, the guy finally flopped to one side and rolled the remainder of the way down, finishing his descent with a hearty splash in the chilly lake water.

Floundering and shouting, the man slapped the lake’s surface, went under, bobbed up, and spit water out of his mouth, and garbled, “Can’t… swim.”

Throwing his arms wide, Forge grumbled, “It’s not as if vampires drown.”

The guy went under, the water churned, but he didn’t come to the surface. Jerking his jacket off and dropping it to the ground, Forge made sure his phone was with the garment.

“This has got to be a joke. A really bad joke.” Forge ran to the edge and dove in. The only thing that prevented him from ejaculating the second his fingers touched the man was the cold water. He shuddered when he pulled the guy against his chest and wrapped one arm around him, using the other to help propel them to the surface.

When he got to the concrete edge, he hefted the guy over and onto the ground. Forge hoisted himself out of the water and hit the guy, who looked to be in his twenties, between the shoulder blades to expel lake water.

A shiver and spark of electricity ran from Forge’s palm and coursed down his spine to settle in his groin.

This couldn’t be his soulmate. Yet even as he finished that thought, he knew, and there was no denying what his body was telling him. The fool dressed as some superhero wannabe in a really bad outfit was Jonas Forge’s mate for eternity.

Forge wondered if other vampires would penalize him for killing his soulmate.

Electric Candle is book 2 of The Sleepless City, series cowritten with Anne Barwell. It's available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.

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Save The Date by Sophia Soames

Mon, 04 May 2026 18:30:00 GMT

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Save The Date

Author/Publisher/Cover Artist: Sophia Soames

Release Date: May 1 2026

Tense/POV: first person/alternating POV

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance

Tropes: Bi awakening, age gap, forced proximity, only one bed, hurt-comfort, single Dad

Themes: TV Married at first sight style show

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 100k words/350 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

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Blurb

Peter Felton

If there was a meme for being a total cliché?

That would be me.

It wouldn’t even need a description, just a pathetic snapshot of me in my threadbare pyjamas standing at my filthy kitchen table staring into the wall like a loser.

Because that is exactly who I am. The middle-aged widower caught up in his very own hell of a midlife crisis. The guy who isn’t over his dead wife. The single dad. Pathetic, Peter. Utterly pathetic.

The guy who thought… I don’t know what I’d been thinking. Because if someone had told me that at forty-five, I’d willingly go on a reality TV dating show?

Yeah. You get the picture. The memes were brutal. Every single one of them was bouncing around the internet like a contagious super-virus. The internet was forever. And so was love.

It’s not who I am, this… this joke of a man I’ve become. It never was, and now? Now I’m standing here wondering how I will ever leave the house again.

Oliver Jacobs

When I was a kid, I thought I was invincible. Turns out… sometimes I was. Sometimes my confidence took me places, and anyway. When you fall? You get up. Make a plan, organize your options and run with the obvious solution. I was good like that.

But I hadn’t counted on… this one plan going so very very wrong. So terribly awfully wrong.

Because my requests had been simple and easy. Youngish, around my age. No facial hair. Nice. No kids, no baggage.

Also gay.

And then? They'd gifted me… Peter Fenton. Everything I hadn’t asked for. And now he is all I want.

So… should I... Save the date? Or just swallow down the fact that Oliver Jacobs… is about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Save the Date is a standalone novel set in the Square Mile Rogues universe.

Content warnings for having lost your partner, violent grief and finding out that love… really matters.

Excerpt

“Oh god,” he groaned, rolling over on the bed where he’d simply thrown himself down on top of the covers. To be honest? I wanted to do the same, tea and all. But thankfully he sat himself back up and received the teacup from my outstretched hands.

“The cups are from Darcie Blush. Gorgeous design.”

“You have to stop with the product promotions. You’re making me look bad!”

“I’m saving your arse here, Peter. Now, Anne. What do we think?”

“She’s with Jorge, and he says she’s pleasant enough, but she’s a good two feet taller than him and he’s as intimidated as anything. His words.”

“Oh. Good gossip. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“It’s all gossip.” The groans coming from him, as sipped the tea, were almost hilarious. But I got it. We were both wrung out and I did… surprisingly… make a good cup of tea.

“And it will all be public gossip. ”I agreed. “Did you read the call sheet? The first episode will air in two weeks. Two! They don’t hang around here, the editing team is working 24/7, so no wonder they’re all shouting at us to say the right things.”

“Instead we’re all gossiping and name-dropping.” He rolled his shoulders, again loudly sipping his tea. “And drinking tea like two little grannies.”

“Granddads.” I laughed. “Well, you’re the Granddad.”

“Which makes you what? What was it you called yourself? A hot twink?”

I liked that he was so easy to get on with. Just simple conversation and ready smiles. He had no idea how much I had needed just this. Something un-complicated. Straightforward.

“I thought you were straight, Peter.”

“Labels are for jam, at least that’s what Wren was saying. But I am starting to question everything. Is every single couple on this show awfully mismatched or what?”

“I think that’s the whole point of the show. One of the production team was talking to someone else, Gina was talking to Jorge I think, I was waiting to film with her so I kind of eavesdropped, that when the first episode goes live, the voting will start. The viewing public will matchmake and then on the Friday, we will all get recoupled. I am assuming that’s why. Someone in here is the perfect match for us, but we don’t know who yet. And I suppose…”

“So… I will be moving in with someone else?”

“What do I know?”

“Oh.” He looked genuinely shocked. “It’s only been a day, but I like being… with you.” He suddenly looked embarrassed, his cheeks blushing under an awkward smile. “I don’t mean like that. You know. I was just settling into that fact, and now…this?”

“I’m trying to figure out who was meant for who. I mean, you have options. We have Diane, who fancies you, and Anne who kept trying to talk to you. Then there was Xanthe.”

“Xanthe is trans. And only interested in men her age. I’m too old.”

“Well, who’s prejudiced now?”

“I’m not, I had a quick chat with her, her teeth are fantastic. Done locally, and I know her dentist. I’m just being sensible here. I can’t see anyone else being an option for me, but Xanthe? No. She’s as confused as we are as to why she’s with… Gerald.”

“Chloe-Catherine doesn’t seem confused?” I was just kidding, and his eyeroll made me laugh.

“Thank you, but no. I have no intention of becoming Chloe-Catherine’s sugar-daddy.” He said quietly, staring me down. I’d noticed that earlier, he could be a little intense at times. I didn’t think I minded.

“What even is that?” Tea. I rarely drank tea, but I think I liked it. Calming. I needed to be calm. Don't panic. “The double-barrelled thing. She’s obsessed.”

“A brand…” he rolled his eyes. I think I liked him. Funny. Normal.

“No I meant, thank you. To you.”

“I’ve done nothing. Just tea.”

“For doing this with me. You could have walked out.”

Strangely, I smiled. A warmth filling in my chest. I was rarely… appreciated. And this somehow felt just like that.

“Not giving up yet.” I gulped out, trying to swallow another mouthful of hot liquid. ”But, at least you have options. There’s only Bi-sexual-Ben left for me, and he scares me. And to be honest? I don’t think I’m his type at all.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He gave off those vibes. I mean, you meet people, and you kind of know. Straight away, virtual thorns out, all prickly.”

“Like me.”

“Just like you”. I smiled. I wasn’t being rude, but he got that. Got me. The relief was like another welcome balm to my soul.

“Tell me about that.” He continued, getting comfortable on the bed. “These sheets are from Donna Truham’s private luxury range. Did you know that, Oliver?”

“I did not know that, Peter. And are they available to purchase from her website?”

He was holding that laughter in, as I smiled at the camera attached to the wall.

“They are indeed, Oliver. Donna Truham dot com. Use the code Save the date for your exclusive ten percent off!”

“That is such a good deal!” I squealed. Then I rolled my eyes. “That’s enough of that stuff. Tell me about your work.”

“Nahahahah… I asked first. Tell me about this instant vibe. In my days, we used to go out and meet girls. You had to compliment them on their hair, their dress, and how nice they smelled. Then you had to ask them to dance. It was really simple because they could just say no and then you knew and moved on. Dignity intact. These days?”

“It’s not that complicated. You meet someone. Stare at them. They stare back. If they hold eye contact, you might, you know? Clink glasses. Have a little snog.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Well, you have to kind of… be in a gay club if you wanna kiss boys. So I have no idea how it works for women…”

“You’ve never been with a woman I assume?”

“Absolutely not. I’m a gold star gay me.”

“Fair enough. Wait… Gold star?”

“A gay guy who's never been with a woman. Never been inside a vagina.”

“Okay?”

“Not a Platinum star gay though sadly. That’s a…“ I leaned over and whispered into his ear. “A platinum star gay is a gay guy who's never been inside a vagina at all. C-section baby.”

I pulled back slowly for effect, laughing out loud as his face bloomed red.

“I’ve never met someone who blushes as much as you.”

“I’m a sheltered middle aged dentist, mate!” He shrieked, but he was laughing. Good for him.

“I think you just made yourself another meme there.” I declared, boldly throwing my arms out.

“Well. I’m ticking them off one by one. Here’s the next one. What if you’re just an ordinary bloke who suddenly has a male partner? What are you then? A brick gay or something?”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.” I smiled.

“It’s just human, isn’t it. We like who we like.” Peter was a nice guy. I had to admit it.

“It’s just who we are, isn’t it? I just always knew. Never hid it. Life can be stupid that way, I mean, what’s the point of hiding what you are? What you’re into?”

“Very true. And I mean, my darling wife was a staunch defender of everyone’s right to love whomever they wanted to love. She… sorry. I shouldn’t talk about my wife.”

“You should. Because she is still important to you?”

“She is. Her name was Mary.”

“Mary. And how did you meet Mary?”

I had no idea where the questions were coming from, but now I was lying down on the bed next to him, still fiddling with my empty cup, listening to stories from his university days, and laughing at his… plain naivety with all of this.

“I like that you don’t care.” Came out of my mouth in the middle of some rant about the pitfalls of fame. Because apparently he’d been… some kind of celebrity. And he was honestly as far away from what I assumed a celebrity would be. He was… ”You’re like the most normal person I’ve ever met.”

“Careful, you’ll end up a meme on the interweb too.” he grinned.

“Nah, no more space on that internet, you’ve already taken them all. I mean, I want to meet someone, but they have to accept that I’m still a married man.”

“Yeah. Probably not the greatest catchphrase.” He admitted.

About the Author

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-) glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The dogs are too.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in her native Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Author Links

https://linktr.ee/sophiasoames

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Rainbow Snippets 5/3/2026

Mon, 04 May 2026 01:37:24 GMT

In honor of the Kentucky Derby, my Rainbow Snippet this week is from Run for the Roses, book 1 of Circles romantic thriller series.

“Well, funny you should ask. Carol and Marcus’s mother had a small Thoroughbred breeding farm. She wasn’t involved so much in racing, but did do some showing and judging of dressage horses. She had a couple good horses from good bloodlines. Small operation—cleaned the stalls herself and gave riding lessons to kids.” Wyatt paused and Val heard him move around, and swallow.

“Not unheard of,” Val said.

“The filly that was stolen and then killed traced her bloodlines to a stallion Mom owned.”

“Wow, that’s a helluva coincidence,” Val said.

Wyatt snorted. “Tell me about it. I’m not sure how this fits in with whoever is running around killing people. Yet. And I’m not sure it’s important. Yet.”

“But there’s more,” Val said.

There are more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group!

Run for the Roses is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.

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Her Runaway Lady by BJ Sikes

Sun, 03 May 2026 06:30:00 GMT

BJ Sikes has a new sapphic historical steampunk romance out: Her Runaway Lady.

Solange doesn’t have time for love. She’s too busy working her way up in the Parisian millinery trade. Her goal: to become rich and lift her family out of poverty. So when a beautiful aristo whirls into the millinery fascinated by hat making, Solange isn’t interested. Or so she tells herself.

Louise-Marie hates the fancy parties she’s dragged to at Versailles, hates the idea of marrying anyone, but loves hat-making. Running away from home to become a milliner seemed like a good idea but the life of a working-class shop girl is harder than she imagined. And her new coworker doesn’t seem to like her much.

Thrown together in the cramped backroom of a millinery shop and a shared garret room, their tensions fray, tangle, then bind.

But ambition doesn’t leave room for longing. And love was never part of Solange’s plan. When she exposes Louise-Marie’s secret in her pursuit of prosperity, will she lose everything?

Series Sale!

Immerse yourself in a reimagined Paris of the 1880s, a Belle Epoque That Never Was, the steampunk-flavoured world of the Roboticist of Versailles. All three books are on sale during the OWI tour for $.99 each - 75% off! You do not need to read the other two books before reading Her Runaway Lady.

Get Her Runaway Lady

Get The Archimedean Heart | Get The Vitruvian Mask

Excerpt

The milliner's shop was full of customers, with their chatter and clouds of warring perfumes, but when the redhaired aristocrat stepped through the door, Solange couldn't take her eyes off her. She turned from the customer she was waiting on, lowering the order book to the counter. Sunlight haloed the young woman, lighting up the red-gold curls frizzed around her face. She was pale, a true redhead, with a dusting of light freckles across her cheeks. No shop girl or woman from around here could afford the high fashion she wore so she had to be rich. She evoked a perfect pure-white courtier from the old regime, even moving like the automatons of that court, stiff but graceful, as if trained from birth to be in complete control of her movements. Solange had rarely seen a woman so beautiful.

She hated her instantly.

Amelie sidled up to Solange, dodging the customers who milled about the counters. She pushed her dark curls off her face. "Grand, isn't she? Look at the fur trim on her gown. It must have cost a fortune."

"What's that to me?" Solange scrunched her nose at Amelie and shrugged. She scrutinised the aristo's outfit. To be that fashionable, it was definitely expensive. From her beaver bonnet with the ostrich plumes to her wool overcoat to the cashmere suit below it. An older woman with the same pointed chin and cupid's bow mouth followed her in, her dress even more elaborately detailed. No doubt her mother. The shop wasn't in a fashionable part of Paris so a pair of rich aristocrats discovering Madame Poulet's was a bit of a mystery.

As if she had heard Solange's thoughts, the girl turned to her mother with a restrained smile. "Maman, you see. I told you it was a milliner. Oh, it's charming in here." Her voice was light and almost breathy, as if she hesitated to speak aloud.

Her mother's face remained placid, stuck in a polite mask. She nodded and gestured to Madame Poulet to approach. Solange's shoulders tightened. How dare she treat Madame like a common errand girl? Her customer's lapdog let out a series of high-pitched yaps. Solange winced at the noise. Or like a pet. She faced her waiting customer but could still see the aristocratic girl on the edge of her vision.

The aristo drifted towards a counter against the side of the room. Madame approached, her expression pleasant, not betraying any offence from the aristocrat's behaviour. She greeted the aristocratic lady and her daughter, all smiles, her taffeta skirts rustling. "Bonjour, madame and mademoiselle. I am Madame Poulet. Welcome to my establishment. How may I assist you today?"

Solange rolled her eyes. Amelie stifled a giggle and backed into the workroom. Probably to share the news with Jeanne and Suzanne that a pair of actual aristocrats were in their shop. The fluffy lapdog in her customer's arms yipped again, and Solange smiled an apology. The customer's mouth spread flat into an unforgiving line. Solange picked up the order book and scribbled the customer's instruction.

The young aristo flipped through the rainbow of fabric swatches in the sample book then trailing a gloved finger along the hats on display, wandered closer to Solange. She stopped to peer at a round hat that Solange had been particularly proud of and Solange caught a hint of her perfume, a light floral scent. She drew a deep breath. The scent suited the redhead.

The girl plucked the hat off the stand and turned it over, examining the interior. Solange’s fingers tightened around the pen she was using to write her customer's order. What was she doing with that round hat? Examining it for flaws so she could warn her mother from purchasing a hat here? She'd find nothing wrong with her hat, Solange was certain.

I spent hours on that hat, every stitch and seam are perfect.

Her customer cleared her throat, obviously losing patience, and Solange faced her with a muttered apology. They flipped through the swatches together, examining the colours and textures of the fabric choices. Solange fought for concentration. She was never like this.

Someone bumped into her shoulder and she turned her head. The sight and sweet floral scent of the red haired aristo inches away filled her senses. Her body trembled and she let out a tiny gasp. The aristo's pale cheeks lit up with a fierce blush and she stammered an apology before backing away.

Solange swallowed and murmured a non-committal response, struggling to regain her poise. The aristo moved away, not meeting Solange's eyes, her cheeks pink. The hat still perched on her delicate fingers. Despite her awkwardness, she'd managed not to drop it.

The aristo turned towards Madame Poulet. "Madame Poulet, the workmanship on this round hat is exquisite. The stitching is almost invisible." Her soft voice quavered. She sat down on the squeaky chair in front of a mirror and raised the hat to her head.

Madame Poulet stood behind her, her hands clasped to her ample bosom, beaming. "We do only superior work here, mademoiselle. I appreciate your eye for quality. Not many pay that close attention."

Solange listened to her customer's final requests with only part of her mind. The rest of her was trying to hear what Madame and the aristo were saying over the chattering of the other customers. The aristo knew a lot about hat making, that was obvious from the way she had traced a finger along the seams, lingering on the tightly attached feathers.

Solange shifted on her feet, unwilling to join the conversation but not wanting to go back to the work room yet. Watching the quiet excitement on the aristo's face fascinated her.

Author Bio

BJ Sikes is a 5'6" ape descendant who is inordinately fond of a good strong cup of tea, Doc Marten boots, and fancy dress. I live with one large cat, two sweet teenagers, and one editor-author, plus an array of chickens in a place very unlike my homeland. My favorite thing to write is historical fantasy with themes of a woman’s struggle for agency and queer characters living their lives.

After writing a dissertation on avocado root rot, I was drawn back to my first love, fiction. I have published several novels, novellas, and short stories in a variety of genres.

Author Website: https://bjsikesauthor.com

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Plan to Read This Weekend!

Fri, 01 May 2026 09:00:00 GMT

Ian pressed the intercom button on his phone, “Yes?”
“There’s a Kevin Shumay here to see you. He says he’s from,” he could hear his assistant, Jocelyn, asking, “What’s the company name?”

“I know him. I’ll be right there,” Ian said. He sighed and stood up, grabbing his suit jacket and slipping it on as he walked to his office door. Stopping at the door, he took a deep breath, straightened his tie, and buttoned the jacket.

Ian put a pleasant, neutral smile on his face and opened the door. “Good afternoon.” He looked around. “I was expecting more people.”

“Yeah,” Kevin ambled into Ian’s office. “I was making a few stops not too far from here. Thought I’d pop in and see if you were free to show me around. I hope that’s okay?”

“S-sure.”

Kevin smiled, and Ian got the distinct impression that he enjoyed throwing Ian off balance. He stood with hands in his pants pockets, watching as Ian went to his desk, grabbing keys and a security card, pocketing those as he turned to face Kevin. Holding out one arm to the door, he said, “Let’s go. We’ll look at the hotel first, then I can show you one of the cabins. Unless your needs have changed?”

“Nope. Still, the same as we discussed last week.”

No matter how Ian tried to make sure they were walking together, Kevin managed to stay half a step behind. His skin crawled knowing Kevin was watching Ian’s every move. Ian silently recited this was his hotel and resort. He was in charge here. Dozens of people answered to him. He was the CEO, not a sub and Kevin was a client, not a Dom.

Yet, Ian felt exposed and controlled.

Another deep, steadying, breath, and Ian pushed the button to the elevator. When the door opened, he put one hand on it, holding it open, and nodded for Kevin to step inside.

Kevin leaned on the opposite door and brushed one hand down Ian’s arm. “After you.”

Ian almost controlled the shiver that worked down his spine. He stepped over the threshold and into the elevator, cursing himself for following Kevin’s order.

By the time the elevator door opened, Ian had regained much of his composure. “That way,” he said and motioned Kevin to the right. “You first, I insist.”

Kevin smirked and shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

It was sexy and alluring and maddening and frightening all at once.

A short hall led to the main part of the room. Ian opened the closets. “Plenty of room for two people to hang their clothes.” He moved beyond the hallway. “Bathroom is over here,” he said as he turned on the light.

Kevin grabbed the door jamb and leaned into the bathroom, filling most of the doorway and blocking Ian from leaving at the same time. “This is very nice.”

“Thank you,” Ian said softly. “We have handicapped-accessible rooms, of course, if you need them.”

In order to leave the bathroom, Ian had to slip by Kevin, brushing against the man’s chest and feeling how his ribcage expanded in a quick breath. He gazed directly at Ian until Ian looked down at the floor.

Ian inwardly swore at himself for dropping into sub mode for someone other than Taren, and at a totally inappropriate time. “The rooms come with a king or two queen-sized beds,” Ian said in a rush. “The sofa in the sitting area opens into a full-sized bed as well. There’re ample outlets for devices, and the nightstands have charging stations.”

He turned in a circle, gestured to the television, dressers, the sitting area, and round table and chairs.

Kevin walked around the room. “This is nice.” The compliment was genuine.

“Thank you.” Ian smiled. “We did an update a few years ago. I’m incredibly pleased with how it all turned out. We have a restaurant and bar, open till ten every evening. Room service is available from 5 a.m. to 1 a.m. daily.”

“Is that the same for the cabins?”

Ian shook his head. The urge to put more distance between Kevin and he was almost overwhelming but stood his ground. “No. Cabin service stops at 9 p.m., but guests can order take-out from the restaurant while it’s open.” He walked to the door and held it open. “We can look at one of the cabins if you’d like.”

“I would. I promised to check everything thoroughly.” Kevin’s gaze raked over Ian again as he sauntered into the hall.

Feeling his neck flush, Ian fumbled with the card lock before saying, “We’ll take my car.” He set a brisk pace to his car. If Kevin was going to insist on walking behind, Ian decided he didn’t have to go at Kevin’s speed.

Ian remembered to turn the seat heaters off when he started the car. Kevin glanced at Ian’s hand and raised his eyebrows.

Ian shrugged. “Something Taren and I do. I figured you wouldn’t like it. And it’s our thing.”

“Understood.” Kevin shrugged. “Might be fun to try sometime. You might remember I switch.”

“I do.” Ian smiled.

“Think we can get any of my guests to practice Locktober?”

That made Ian laugh and relax. “Only if I can sit and watch you give that talk then clear it with HR.”

“Deal,” Kevin said and chuckled. “Do you have a cabin I can look at?”
“I do.” Ian parked the SUV in a common lot near the cabins. He motioned to one of the closer cabins. As they walked to the group of cabins, he relaxed and tried to remind himself Kevin had a playful side that was different from his and Taren’s. It was unlikely that Kevin meant any harm. Kevin could be a little pushy, but he’d never overstepped his bounds. “We can walk through this one.” He unlocked the door, letting it swing open.

Kevin used one hand against the door to hold it open for Ian. “I can get a better view that way.”

“Uh-huh.” Ian was careful not to get ahead of Kevin, but right now he seemed more interested in seeing the grounds and accommodations than Ian’s ass.

Kevin checked the place thoroughly and wandered around the grounds surrounding the cabins, which Ian expected. Once they were finished, they returned to Ian’s office. Jocelyn wasn’t there, but she often had to leave the offices. Ian wished she hadn’t picked this instant to do so.

“I’ll be in touch,” Kevin said and held out his hand to Ian. He hung onto Ian’s hand a bit too long with a grip too firm and used his foot to push the door to Ian’s office closed.

Ian tried to jerk his hand free, but Kevin doubled down on his grip. “Not exactly respecting boundaries,” Ian ground out.

Kevin responded by leaning in closer and planting his other palm firmly against the wall inches from Ian’s head. His eyes twinkled. He smiled. “You’re always too worried about proper boundaries.” He leaned closer to Ian and ran his other hand down Ian’s side. “What would you suppose Taren would think of us?”

Ian yanked his hand free and shoved at Kevin, pushing him away. “Get off me! I’m a sub, not a doormat, and not your boy toy.”

Kevin shoved back, forcing Ian against the wall, hand on Ian’s chest applying enough pressure to restrain Ian. He spoke in Ian’s ear, his voice low. “You sure weren’t arguing a few nights ago when I manhandled you, boy.” Kevin gave Ian’s chest a pat before he let go and took a few steps back.

“Taren’s the only person who calls me that,” Ian spat.

Kevin winked. “Hmm, we’ll see.” He sighed and opened the door. “Maybe I’ll look at other locations for my company.”

Ian shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets so Kevin wouldn’t see them shake. “Go ahead. As you can see, we’re not hurting.” He had to concentrate on every word to keep from stammering.

“Maybe that’ll change.” Kevin smirked and walked out of the room, nodding to Jocelyn coming back in, as he passed her in the door to the outer office.

Force Majeure is available in eBook, paperback,
through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.

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Tuesday Teaser 4/28/2026

Tue, 28 Apr 2026 16:06:33 GMT

Slight sounds and scents Forge wouldn’t normally notice in this situation assaulted him. He shifted his weight and sighed. No one else seemed to notice. It was annoying and distracting, and he made a mental note to discuss this with Blair. As soon as the elevator door opened, he felt a slight tingling along his spine. Checking the doors as he wandered the hall became unnecessary as the tingling increased.

Blair’s office was, in fact, a group of three small offices with a common outer waiting area. Forge slipped into a chair and picked up a magazine. Blair’s door was open and he stood listening to some guy who, if Forge was getting the gist of the conversation, was upset about a grade he’d received for a class project.

Forge arched an eyebrow and glanced over the top of his magazine every few seconds while he listened to the exchange.

“You didn’t do the project as it was outlined. You failed,” Blair said. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

“What I did was brilliant and creative and—”

“And not the project you were assigned to complete,” Blair said. His tone was getting harsher.

Forge flipped the pages of the magazine, but he wasn’t looking at it.
“So, you’re saying, teaching assistant, that my work is brilliant, but you want ordinary?”

Forge sort of hated this guy.

“No, what I’m saying is sometimes you have to learn to complete the mundane tasks in order to advance to the more innovative ones. It’s called real life. Get used to it,” Blair said. “And, I’m a full professor now.” He wasn’t budging and that sent a warm wave of pride through Forge. To the casual observer, Blair might appear quiet, almost meek, a pushover who wasn’t aware of what was going on around him. Forge had mistakenly thought that at one time. Not anymore.

“This is utter bullshit!”

Forge gave up any pretext of reading and dropped the magazine to his knees. When he leaned forward and rested his chin against his hands folded together, Blair’s gaze flicked to him, and he shook his head the smallest bit.

“It’s my class. I am responsible for creating the syllabus and grading the assignments. You didn’t complete the assigned work. Simple as that.” Blair punctuated his statement with a low growl it was obvious the guy couldn’t hear.

“Maybe I should take this up with the department head.”

This had gone on long enough. Forge slapped the magazine back into place on the table, stood up, and cleared his throat. The student—and Blair—ignored him. Though from the emotions Blair emitted and his stance, Forge could tell he was concentrating on not rolling his eyes.

Blair could roll his eyes like no one else.

“You go right ahead,” Blair said. “Make sure you get my name right. It’s Doctor Turner. I completed my course work and earned my degrees. Degrees, plural.”

Forge crossed the room and announced, “I believe Dr. Turner and I have an appointment.” He tapped his watch for emphasis.

The guy turned and poked Forge’s chest. “I’m not done here, buddy.”

Forge put his hands on his hips, pulling back his jacket as he did so. “Hmm.”

Blair sucked in a breath only Forge could hear, and he recognized it as that giggle/snicker sort of thing Blair did.

The guy looked briefly at the badge and gun now in plain view. He blew out a disgusted breath and gave Forge another poke, saying, “I said I need a few minutes here. This is my life I’m discussing. That’s not a crime.”

Forge looked down at the finger against his chest. Blair’s stance relaxed. He turned partially away, clearly trying to conceal the smile threatening to break out and scratched the back of his head.

Using his best throaty vampire voice, Forge spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “And I said I have an appointment.” With another tap on his watch, he dropped his fangs a bit and let his eyes change to a solid blue. “Now.”

The young man’s eyes grew wide. He stumbled away from Blair and Forge, tripping over a trash can in the process.

“What the hell?”

Forge twisted around and pursued him. “Here, let me help you.” He took the man’s arm, ushering him along a bit faster. His voice and appearance were normal again.

“I… this….” The student hurried into the hall.

Blair called after him and pointed. “The department head is down the hall, third door on the right. Big sign that says Department Head.” In the next instant, he put his hand against Forge’s chest. “You can’t do that.”

“What?” Forge slipped one arm around Blair’s waist. “No one saw me change or move that fast.” He tugged Blair closer and walked them backward into the office, kicking the door shut behind him. “Though, my badass act works much better without you giggling in the background.”

“You can’t—” Blair sucked in a breath and his voice cracked when Forge ran his other hand up Blair’s spine, bent his head and licked Blair’s neck. “—intimidate everyone—” His speech faltered as Forge’s tongue slithered slowly over Blair’s ear. “—who…. Stop! I only have forty-five minutes for lunch, and I’m hungry.”

“So am I.” Forge used his fangs to lightly bite the tender flesh under Blair’s jaw. He was rewarded with the reaction he hoped for. Blair moaned and leaned more heavily against him, hips stuttering forward. “We’re men. Forty-five minutes is plenty of time to eat and get a quickie.”

Blair squirmed and Forge let his grip be broken. “Be nice to the students, and I’m serious. We can’t do this…that…here.”

Forge sighed and leaned to the side to open the door. “It’s my sworn duty as your soulmate to protect you and defend you. That’s rule number one of the vampire code.”

Blair let the eye roll loose. It was probably painful to contain it for so long. “There is no vampire code, and I don’t need defending. I was taking care of myself years before I met you and your—” He paused, raised his eyebrows, grinned wickedly, and poked Forge’s chest. “—badge.”

Forge waved out the door and stepped to the side so Blair could exit the small office. He stopped and waited for Blair to lock up, then walked beside him to the elevator. “You know what’s going on here, right?”

“Five weeks until the anniversary of my dad’s funeral, which means—”

“Five weeks and a day until the anniversary of when you were changed. You’ll be contagious,” Forge finished for him and pushed the down button.

Blair nodded. “You’re only going to get more intense and worse, aren’t you?”

“But that’s why you love me.” Forge let Blair enter the elevator first. They were alone. “For my badge and all.”

“Declan is right, you and Lucas spend far too much time together. You’re both incorrigible.”

Forge chuckled, and Blair gifted him with another eye roll as they took up their places in the cafeteria line. He put his most charming smile on his face when a girl picked up a tray and joined the line right behind them.

“Hello.”

Minor irritation skimmed the surface of Blair’s emotions, and Forge felt it prickle his senses.

The girl cocked her head and flipped her hair. “Are you new here?” she asked and brushed her hand over Forge’s. Her gaze raked up and down his body.

“I’m visiting.” They moved along the line, and he picked up a few dishes.

“She’s a student,” Blair whispered.

Forge leaned closer to Blair, dropped his voice an octave, and said, “I don’t work here.” He was using what Lucas liked to refer to as “Forge’s fuck me” voice.

“Oh,” the girl said. “Even better.” She inched close enough to rub her arm against his.

Forge basked in the tidal wave of heat, desire, and jealousy that swirled away from Blair to surround him.

Blair grabbed one of the dishes from Forge’s tray and put it back. “Don’t eat the mystery green stuff—it’s not broccoli.” He leaned around Forge, forcing him back a step, and spoke to the girl. “You’re barking up a very wrong tree. He’s gay. He’s mine. And it’s spectacular.”

The girl stared at Blair for a few seconds before taking her tray and storming away.

Forge shrugged and picked up his tray. “Good luck with school.”

“Table,” Blair growled and pointed out the direction. “Over there.”

Trailing behind him, Forge feigned innocence. “I distinctly remember you telling me to be nice to the students.”

Blair dropped his tray onto a table. “Yeah, be nice. Not use that tone and your—badge—in a way that makes them want to undress and fling themselves at your feet.”

“You love me for it.” Forge sat down and surveyed his food. “We could go to the new pizza place.”

Blair’s chin dropped to his chest for a second. When he looked up, his eyes twinkled and he smiled. “You are a very lucky man. I don’t have time to go for pizza. It may be orgasm inducing, but they’re slow. Dinner there? Just you and me?”

“Oh, now you want a date.” Forge returned the mischievous and warm smile Blair wore. “And some of this spectacular stuff.” He waved one hand down his chest and laughed when Blair kicked him under the table.
The school food was possibly some of the worst Forge had ever eaten, and after two-hundred-odd years, he’d consumed a lot of food. However, he decided this had to be a regular thing. He liked meeting Blair for lunch and seeing a side to him Forge hadn’t known was there. Being Blair’s soulmate ensured their lifelong desire and commitment. It was the day-to-day liking and getting to know each other they needed to work on.

Their meal finished, Forge walked Blair back to his office. Blair unlocked the door, and at the same time, Forge was doused in another wave of lust and something he could only describe as partnership. Most vampires experienced this sort of bond and empathy for one another during their initial mating. He’d understood the ability to feel each other so strongly diminished after one of them was marked. For them it seemed to increase. This was all new territory for him, and he was discovering how much he liked it, wanted it, and looked forward to it. Forge was indeed a very lucky man.

Blair used his hand on Forge’s chest to shove him through the door. He shut it behind them softly. One of Blair’s hands cupped the back of Forge’s neck, and Blair pulled them together, kissing Forge slowly, then slipping his tongue into Forge’s mouth, his fangs nipping his lip. Blair wasn’t usually the aggressor, and Forge adored it when he was.

He put one hand on Blair’s ass and held him close, kneading the firm flesh of Blair’s buttock slowly. All too soon Blair broke their kiss. They leaned against each other, panting. Blair trembled. “I have a late class,” Blair whispered. “Will seven be okay?”

Forge pulled in a deep breath, kissed Blair’s forehead, and nodded. “I’ll be there.” One more sweet kiss to Blair’s lips and Forge added, “I’ll call you later.” He dipped his head at the door and at the same time cupped Blair’s face, running his thumb lightly over his cheek. “Keep them in line. I’d better get back to work.”

“Bye,” Blair said quietly, and Forge thought he sounded a bit wistful. “Keep the streets safe.”

Shifting Chaos is available in eBook, paperback
and through Kindle Unlimited.

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Around and Around We Go by Amy Aislin

Tue, 28 Apr 2026 06:30:00 GMT

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Around and Around We Go

Author and Publisher: Amy Aislin

Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Release Date: April 28, 2026

Tense/POV: third person, past tense, alternating POVs

Genres: MM Contemporary Hockey Romance

Tropes: Second chance romance, forced proximity, found family, slow burn

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 70,000 words / 230 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon | Apple | B&N | Kobo

Buy direct to get the bonus scene included

Ebook | Audio | Ebook/audiobook bundle

When you’re facing The End, it’s time to rewind to the beginning.

Blurb

At thirty-eight years old, Sandro Zanetti is quickly aging out of hockey. But the Trailblazers are chasing a history-making third consecutive championship this season, so until his knees fail him, he plans on giving his all to the sport.

What he doesn’t need is the documentary film crew following the team’s every move. Because the director? Is Bennett Jackson.

Former college sweetheart.
Breaker of hearts.
Still unbearably handsome.

But their relationship is also history and has been for fifteen years.

Bennett Jackson is one project away from the credits rolling on his career after his last film flopped. This behind-the-scenes look at the hottest team in the league is his last chance at redemption…and possibly his last chance at redeeming himself with the one man who’s always held his heart.

Neither of them planned for old jokes to resurface or on the inconvenient fact that their chemistry is very much alive.

But as the action heats up on and off the ice—and on and off camera—their reunion looks less like a rerun of heartbreak and more like a revival of that first chemistry.

And Sandro and Bennett may discover that some stories deserve a sequel.

Excerpt

“Got an umbrella?” Sandro asked.

“No. And if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you. What if I need it?”

“Asshole,” Sandro replied, laughing. “Give me your jacket at least. Yours has a hood.”

Bennett stared at him for a long moment. “No.”

“Man. Chivalry is dead, I tell you.”

“Here. I’ll get a little closer to your front door.” He eased the car forward a few inches, then put it in park. He jerked a thumb at his own chest. “Chivalrous.”

Sandro snorted a laugh and took off his jacket, ready to use it as a stand-in umbrella. “See ya. Thanks for the lift home, even if you won’t walk a boy to his door.”

There was more he wanted to say, but he couldn’t figure out where to start.

Go back to LA?

Never leave again?

Why are you really here?

But he needed time to get his thoughts in order, so he splashed out into the downpour.

To his surprise, Bennett met him on the sidewalk and, using his own jacket, held it over the both of them as they jogged up to the covered porch.

“You didn’t . . .” The words got stuck in Sandro’s throat as Bennett shook the rain off his jacket. Strands of blond hair had escaped his bun and hung loose around his face, beginning to go frizzy from the moisture in the air. Sandro curled his hands into fists in the material of his jacket, hanging wetly in front of him, to stop himself from reaching out and tucking one behind Bennett’s ear. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Tell me again how chivalry is dead?”

A laugh escaped him again, and his gaze snagged on Bennett’s.

There’d been times those eyes had squinted in annoyance or flashed with anger or heated in desire. Right now, as Bennett slowly lost his smile, they were none of those things.

Just vulnerable in their desperation.

Sandro’s chest squeezed tight, and with a sudden clarity, he knew he didn’t want to hear whatever Bennett wanted to tell him.

“Sandy—”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

“San—”

“No.” Heart pounding, Sandro took a step back. “It’s ancient history. It doesn’t matter anymore. We need to move forward, not back.”

That vulnerable desperation turned to naked hope that broke something in Sandro.

Bennett swallowed audibly and said, “As friends?”

Obviously not, Sandro meant to say. There’s too much history between us. But what came out was, “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Bennett repeated with a nod. “I can live with maybe.” He shrugged his jacket back on and looked out across the yard to his car at the curb. “Got an umbrella?”

Amusement crawled up the back of Sandro’s throat. “Fuck no.”

He went inside and closed the door on Bennett’s booming laugh.

About the Author

Amy’s lived with her head in the clouds since she first picked up a book as a child, and being fluent in two languages means she’s read a lot of books! She first picked up a pen on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class had to stay inside for recess. Tales of treasure hunts with her classmates eventually morphed into love stories between men, and she’s been writing ever since. She writes evenings and weekends—or whenever she isn’t at her full-time day job saving the planet at Canada’s largest environmental non-profit.

An unapologetic introvert, Amy reads too much and socializes too little, with no regrets. She loves connecting with readers. Join her Facebook Group to stay up-to-date on upcoming releases and for access to early teasers, find her on Instagram, or sign up for her infrequent newsletter.

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Wine Quest by Dann Hazel

Mon, 27 Apr 2026 06:30:00 GMT

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Wine Quest

Author: Dann Hazel

Publisher: The Original Press, LLC

Cover Artist: Dann Hazel and Josh Fippen

Release Date: April 27, 2026

Tense/POV: third person, past tense, single POV

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance

Tropes: Opposites attract, small town romance, forced proximity

Themes: Forgiveness, found family, living authentically

Length: 40 000 words/152 pages

Heat Rating: 3 flames

It’s part of a series (Short Orders Gay Romance Series), but it can be enjoyed as a standalone.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Kobo | B&N | Smashwords

Pour the wine. Take the risk. Fall in love.

Blurb

A wounded electrician.

A vineyard owner guarding his heart.

One unforgettable romance set in Virginia wine country.

After tragedy forces him to start over, George relocates to rural Virginia determined to rebuild his life one careful step at a time. New town. New job. No emotional risks.

Love isn’t on the menu.

Then a spontaneous visit to the famous Wine Quest Festival changes everything.

Ryan, owner of Ryval Winery, is charming, successful, and dangerously easy to fall for. Their connection sparks instantly—shared laughter, lingering touches, late-night conversations over perfectly poured wine. For the first time in years, George begins to believe he might deserve happiness again.

But real life refuses to stay uncomplicated.

Ryan’s business partner—and former lover—still occupies a complicated role in his world. George’s fear of abandonment threatens to sabotage something real before it can grow. When workplace conflict costs George the stability he fought to build, both men must decide whether love is worth risking heartbreak.

Set against the romantic backdrop of Virginia vineyards, lakeside sunsets, and small-town charm, Wine Quest delivers emotional depth, sensual chemistry, and a hard-earned happily ever after.

Wine Quest is Book Two in the Short Orders Gay Romance Series, but can be enjoyed as a standalone MM romance.

Perfect for readers who love:

MM romance
Gay small-town romance
Opposites attract relationships
Slow burn to steamy romance
Found family & emotional healing
LGBTQ+ love stories with mature characters
Vineyard & winery romance settings
Hurt/comfort and second chances

If you enjoy heartfelt LGBTQ romance with heat, humor, and deeply emotional connections, Wine Quest belongs on your reading list.

Excerpt

George had been a cracker jack electrician for the past ten years.

Today, he was a man obsessed.

Not with his job, which he liked well enough. But really? A job is just a job, and having one is highly overrated.

Not with his new life in Virginia, though he liked the change of climate compared to the sultry New Orleans. (He was even looking forward to experiencing his first snowfall.)

Not even with the friendly people he’d met so far in the Roanoke area.

No, his current common-sense obsession was centered on Ryan Ryval. Not only did George adore gingers, but this particular one was perhaps the most handsome red-haired man he’d ever seen. And those exotic green eyes! They pierced him to his core each time Ryan made eye contact with George during their short conversation at Wine Quest.

After today’s service calls, the weekend would be upon him.

Which meant that George would be spending part of his day on Sunday with the object of his sexual fantasies.

He’d been having a lot of those over the past several days. The man he satisfied in his imagination—and satisfied him—was always Ryan.

He fantasized over what Ryan’s unclothed body must look like. Was his full torso hairy, as George suspected? Was his back hirsute as well? Was he circumcised or not? And if he wasn’t, would he find George’s circumcised penis a turn-off? Did he have shapely legs, or were they too skinny and disappointingly shapeless? What about his feet? Were they attractive? Because George would never deny that he had something of a foot fetish. What kinds of things did Ryan like to do in bed? Was he a top, bottom, vers, or a side? Or, perhaps, none of these things? What experiences in his life catalyzed Ryan’s interest in producing wine? Was he originally from Virginia? Did he share any interests with George? What did he like to do for fun? Where did he like to travel, and what music, what books did he enjoy?

Those questions were important to George, who knew that even a hot man who shared nothing in common would ultimately grow bored and lose interest.

But most of all—because this question spoke most to a man’s integrity, his morals, his character—he wondered what challenges had been placed before Ryan, and how he’d coped with them.

As he drove his Slate toward Valleyview Electric, George’s thoughts turned toward his former life. He adored New Orleans. Its decadent beauty. Its quirky charm. Its live-and-let-live vibe. He’d never deny the strengths of that city.

But he could never return to the Big Easy.

To visit, yes.

To live? Hell no.

He had his parents to blame for that.

But it wasn’t something they did.

Instead, it was a tragedy brought upon them by a culprit who was never apprehended.

Something completely out of their control.

Something from which George would never fully recover.

About the Author

Dann writes gay romance novels along with other queer-themed works. He especially enjoys writing about men who, while dealing with trauma or other challenges, find themselves falling in love despite themselves. He also feels it's important to include allies who often provide good advice to their gay friends in a troublesome relationship.

When not writing, Dann enjoys running, reading in many genres, watching high quality movies and television series, and snuggling with his adorable American Eskimo dog, appropriately named Flurry. He loves showtunes (of course), golden oldies, classical music, and disco divas.

Currently, Dann and his husband, Josh, reside in the Roanoke, VA area.

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