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Kathy L. Brown has a new queer urban fantasy mystery out (ace, pan/bi, gay): The Talking Cure. Sean Joye Investigations, Book 2 Haunted woman claws her way back to reality by reconnecting with her magical powers in The Talking Cure, a supernatural Yuletide follow-up to The Big Cinch. Committed to an insane asylum, Violet Humphrey is isolated on the Illinois prairie with only her own thoughts and a persistent new voice in her head for company. When she is accused of murder, Violet suspects her road to both freedom and recovery lies through confronting her painful past and solving the crime. Magically summoned, Sean Joye skids through an ice storm to help Violet, but can they catch the killer and defy an eldritch horror before Violet loses her tenuous grasp on reality? "The Talking Cure is a marvelous story—an Agatha Christie-style murder mystery infused with a strong sense of the Weird... and a hearty dose of magic on the side. It's ideal for all fans of the sinister, the surprising, and the strange." —Cherie Priest, award-winning author of Boneshaker Warnings: suicidal ideations, references past harm to child. About the Series The Sean Joye Investigations series embeds readers in a magic-laced 1920s era St. Louis. The world has barely survived a brutal global war, disease pandemic, and rampant ethnic violence. The cosmic balance is off kilter, and corrupt energies seep through widening cracks in reality. That foul rot has touched Sean Joye in myriad ways. A disillusioned veteran of 1922’s Irish Civil War, he traveled to America to escape supernatural attention, forget his assassin past, and forge a clean new life. Can Sean now master the magical abilities he has rejected for so long in time to protect the innocent and save his own skin? Universal Buy LinkExcerpt
Cold air invaded the room, and the flames crackled in greeting. Out in the foyer, I could hear Carrie as she passed off the arriving board members’ coats and bags to an orderly dragooned into footman duty—“Good evening, Doctor. Ah, Doctor, you remember Doctor? And here’s Doctor, right on time.” I scooted as far away from Dr. Elsass as I could, making for the Christmas tree in front of the parlor windows. Its sharp green scent tried its best to counter the guests’ stench. As much as I avoided the director, I could still hear him chirping in the background. “We’ll talk about that, of course.” His voice dropped to a whisper, but the words flew across the room to me like bright budgies. “Do you think that wise, Emerson? She is in a most fragile state.” I found Nurse Martin leading my other roommate, Berta, and two additional patients in tree decoration. “Ah, Violet, thanks for joining us.” She held out a sturdy cedar ornament. “Care to help?” I took it and clung to its warm scent for protection, but despite knowing better—the men would just upset me—I couldn’t help watching their dispute. Dr. Elsass was a chess master, and we were all merely pieces in play. Even this Emerson fellow. “Don’t you believe in your Talking Cure? She seems much better to me.” Emerson glanced down at his wife and grinned, showing lots of teeth. The rumor among the maids and kitchen staff was that Blanche was besotted with our therapist, Dr. Ibrahim Cole. Although she was here for “female hysteria”— whatever that was—I had never met a less hysterical female. Blanche diligently ignored her husband and Dr. Elsass, engrossed as she was in the sketchbook that was never far from her side. “Aren’t you, darling?” Emerson said, paying no attention to her activity. “Wouldn’t you like a break from chewing off Cole’s ear? You can talk to me if you feel down in the mouth.” Blanche looked up. “I would like to see my dog.” Ah, I thought. She was paying attention. I bet she notices more than she lets on. “See? She’s fine.” Emerson exclaimed to Dr. Elsass, as if he’d cured her female hysteria himself. “Perhaps a weekend pass,” the director mused, pretending to consider the matter. “We’ll discuss it at the staff meeting. Mrs. Emerson has made remarkable progress, it is true.” He glanced around the room, caught my eye, and beamed. Damn. “And speaking of remarkable progress, you know Mrs. Humphrey, I’m sure.” Emerson strode across the room and held out his hand. “Percy Emerson. We’ve met, but you may not remember. I knew your father from the Piasa Club.” I made myself take his hand, briefly, despite his rotten odor. And the maggots I could see writhing about on his palm. Not real, I told myself. Not real. “Please call me Violet.” “And you should call me Percy. I’m…Sorry for your loss.” I nodded and made for the tea cart, aiming for a napkin to wipe his stench off my skin. My losses were many. To which did he refer? Percy drifted back to Dr. Elsass and winked. “Nice try. As I was saying, Blanche is much more…tractable…than before.” He patted his wife on the head. “But your cure takes an awful lot of time and buckets of cash—who’s to say she wouldn’t have snapped out of it on her own?” For her part, Blanche seemed oblivious to the conversation that was transpiring, intent as she was on sketching the Christmas tree. Percy at last noticed the sketchbook on his wife’s lap. “That’s nice, honey. Gonna puts some colors on there? Lots of green and red?” She looked up at him, her face blank. Eventually, she said, “Do you think I should? I was interested in the pattern, you see, the way the light—” “Oh, yes, definitely. Christmas trees are green. With red balls. That might be good enough for a holiday card, if you color it up right.” To Dr. Elsass, he said, “Nice little scam you got going here, doc.” His voice boomed over the chittering noise of the room. “Well played.” The guests ceased their conversations and turned to the two men. Dr. Elsass and Percy stared at each other for a long minute. At last, the director laughed out loud. “Ah, Mr. Emerson. Always a kidder, as the young people say.” The room grew darker as the afternoon faded, with just the glow of the hearth and the lights on the Christmas tree. When a fresh contingent of board members lumbered into the parlor, the parrot squawked, and the elderly tree trimmers equally took fright. Dr. Elsass approached the new arrivals, arms outstretched. “Come in, gentlemen. Have a hot drink. There will be ‘something stronger,’ and a fine meal presently.” Suddenly, a passing shadow blocked the glow from the fireplace, a darkness that smelled of decaying fish, sulfur, and algae bloom. Then Berta, who’d been so calm, sank to her knees, her eyes darting about, and croaked in a wavering voice, “Dagon lives. Mighty Dagon. Dagon. Dagon. Dagon.” The bird joined in as a chorus, “Dagon, Dagon, Dagon.” Having no idea to whom or what they referenced, I was struck for a moment with total conviction that Berta, and perhaps the parrot, knew some secret of infinite portent. I utterly believed them, the words a carillon to my ears. I took a deep breath. This wouldn’t do at all. I’m sure it was just what Carrie had been worried about, one of us crazy people acting crazy at the normal-people party. Author Bio Kathy L. Brown writes speculative fiction with a historical twist. Her hometown— St. Louis, Missouri, USA—and its history inspires much of her fiction. The haunted 1920s world of the Sean Joye Investigations book series was conceived in a creative writing workshop in 2004. The idea wouldn’t go away, and Kathy published two Sean Joye novellas while working on her first novel, The Big Cinch, released by the Montag Press Collective in December 2021. The Big Cinch won the 2022 Imadjinn award for best urban fantasy novel. After spending the pandemic editing and publishing a secondary-world young adult fantasy, Wolfhearted, Kathy wrote the next Sean Joye investigation, The Talking Cure. It will be published in November 2025. A Sean Joye short story, “The Pixie Job,” appears in the 2024 Marathonarium Anthology: Volume II. Currently she is preparing a high fantasy novella in the Wolfhearted world for publication in 2026. Learn more at kathylbrown.com. Author Website: https://www.kathylbrown.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=590229717 Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/kbkathylbrown Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kathylbrownwrites/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18298845.Kathy_L_Brown Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/kathy-l-brown/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/kathylbrown
 My snippet this week is from Whiskey and Moonshine!  “Why aren’t you out looking for Colt?” Mal snapped. Margo took the folders and sat at the table. “Mal, the fact is, until we learn something about the men who are responsible, we have nowhere to start looking. Unless you have some idea where they are?” When Mal shook his head and dropped into a chair, she smiled softly. “Right now we wait for them to make contact with a drop point. Until then, the best use of our time is to learn as much as we can about everyone involved. That way we’ll be ready, and hopefully there’ll be no surprises.” Audrey’s phone chirped. She pulled it from her jacket pocket. “I’m sorry.” Holding it in one hand, she swiped at it, Mal presumed, to silence it. Instead she stood and stared at it. Turning it around for all to see, she asked, “Does this qualify as a surprise?”  Don't miss more awesome snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Whiskey and Moonshine is available in eBook, paperback, audio, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.   RECENT RELEASE 
Book Title: Boolgarrin Author: Jude Rule Publisher: Warru Press Cover Artist: Leo Fortin Release Date: November 8, 2025 Tense/POV: third person, past tense, alternating POV Genres: Contemporary MM Romance Tropes: Small town romance, fake marriage, marriage-of-convenience romance, second chance Heat Rating: 3.5 flames Length: 38 913 words/ 150 pages It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Amazon AU | Amazon US | Amazon UK 
He thought he was saving the farm. He never expected to lose his heart. Blurb Sometimes you have to fake it before you make it—especially when it comes to marriage. When a father's hatred becomes a weapon from beyond the grave, two men must fake a marriage to save a family farm. Finn has hurt him once. Can Ben survive being married to the man he desires most in the world without his heart being crushed in the process? Located in the fictional town of Murrilup, Western Australia, Boolgarrin is a tender marriage-of-convenience romance. Amidst small-town prejudice and a vengeful neighbour, two men hope for a second chance at love. Excerpt Ben couldn’t sleep. He twisted in the sheets, fists clenching against the mattress. The ceiling above seemed to tilt with the shadows, and his breath caught sharp and uneven, as if the ground had shifted beneath him. He was used to having control of his life, and now he felt completely unbalanced. His mind was racing. In one day, his whole life had been upended. Amelia and Josie had started wedding planning. The admission by Finn, though, was what really blind-sided him. He finally gave up on sleep. Slipping his feet into his slippers, he padded into the kitchen. He smiled faintly as he put a couple of brownies in the microwave, then turned to flick on the kettle and noticed pots simmering on the stove. Iris made the best brownies. "Sorry," he said. "I thought I'd be the only one up." Amelia appeared from the pantry, smiling tiredly. "Can't sleep either?" he asked. She shook her head and gestured to the kitchen bench. "Come sit. I'm just finishing something." “I can make my tea and head back to my room,” Ben said. “Nah, come and join me,” she said, pulling out one of the breakfast stools. After helping herself to some water from the fridge door, she sat down. They sat together briefly, neither saying anything. “What are you making?” asked Ben, breaking the silence. “Hand cream.” “It smells amazing.” “Thanks,” said Amelia. She smiled, the first genuine smile Ben had seen from her all day. "I've been selling some at the farmers' market in Bremer Bay. Nothing major, just pocket money really, but people seem to like them." She returned to the pots on the stove and started stirring them. "Selling them?" Ben raised his eyebrows. "That's brilliant, Amelia. Have you thought about expanding it?" She shrugged. " I wanted to. I have notebooks full of ideas, including new scents and packaging designs, and I've even researched what it would take to start officially." Her face fell slightly. "Dad said university was a waste of money for girls. That I'd just get married and have babies anyway, so why bother with business studies? He was happy to spend money on the stuff I needed to make the product, but he wasn’t happy with me selling any, even at the market.” Ben felt that familiar anger toward his father rising in his chest. "That's rubbish, Amelia. You know that, right?" "I know. But when someone tells you something often enough..." She trailed off, focusing intently on her stirring. "You could still do it, you know. Study business. Sell these." Ben gestured toward her pot of hand cream. "Finn would help with the legal stuff." Amelia's face brightened. "You think he'd help?" "Of course he would. Especially after..." Ben paused, realising he was about to bring up the marriage arrangement. "Well, especially considering everything he's doing for us." For a while, the kitchen was quiet except for the sound of Amelia's spoon scraping the sides of the pot. Ben stared into his tea, Finn's words from earlier echoing in his head. "Can I ask you something?" Amelia said quietly. “Sure.” "I saw your face when Nate said Finn would move in. Why is that such a big deal? He used to stay over all the time." Ben raked a hand through his hair. "That was different. Back then, he was just Nate’s friend." Amelia tilted her head. "So?" He took a big breath. “It’s a lot, okay?” “I know, but …” “Look, if I tell you something, do you promise to never tell anyone, not Finn and definitely not Nate?” She nodded, “Of course. I love you, brother. I’m just trying to understand.” “I’ve never told anyone this before.” “Then I'm honoured you trust me.” He laughed nervously and began, fingers picking at his nails. “When I was seventeen, he came over, but Nate was out with Josie. Their relationship was still new, and they had gone to the Stirling Ranges, where they planned to have a picnic and do the Kanga Walk. He told me that he would hang around until they got back, as he hadn’t let Nate know that he was coming anyway. We had a great afternoon. We went for a ride and sat down by the old Moreton Bay Fig Tree. When we returned, he came into my room and we played video games. We just talked and laughed, and I may have just snaffled a port, so we may have had a drink or two too.” Amelia arched a brow. “You may have?” “Fine, I definitely did.” Ben grinned briefly. “Finn was more used to drinking than me, but we both became a little tipsy.” “Oh no. This is going to be bad, isn’t it?” Ben nodded his head. “I started talking to him about how he had the most beautiful, deep blue eyes, like the ocean, that someone could drown in. I even told him his eyes were cobalt blue.” Ben put his hands over his face. “I mean how geeky is that?” Amelia shrugged and continued to stir her concoction on the stove. “I don’t know, it’s not as if you told him the hex code for the colour.” Ben laughed and shook his head. “No, but it gets worse. I then told him what kissable lips he has, and then I leaned forward and kissed him. At first tentatively, but then when he put an arm around me, I reached out and pulled my hands through his hair.” Ben closed his eyes; the mere thought of that kiss always brought him back to that night, the softness of Finn’s hair and the feel of his lips. It was as if electricity shot through Ben. Before Ben knew it, he had acted on instinct, their lips moving together, Ben’s tongue moving across the seam between Finn’s lips. Finn responded, sliding his arm around Ben’s waist and kissing him back. When Finn moaned, Ben pulled him closer. “Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.” “Nate,” said Amelia quietly. She had stopped stirring and was sitting opposite Ben on a stool. Ben nodded and put his hands over his cheeks. “Finn jumped back, causing me to step back. Our hair was mussed, our skin flushed, and our lips swollen. Nate opened the door and told Finn that he was home. He had dropped Josie off on the way. He looked between the two of us, and I still have no idea what he was thinking. Finn told him he would join him in a sec.” “Close call. I’m glad that Nate didn’t just walk in.” I shook my head. “I’m so glad too. It was bad enough as it was.” Amelia reached over and put her hand over mine. “What happened next?” “Nate’s forehead creased, and he looked like he was going to say something, but then he closed the door and left.” “Finn spoke quietly, presumably so that Nate wouldn’t hear, but there was a forcefulness to his voice. ‘What the heck!’ he had exclaimed, ‘we’re both men.’ I looked down, thinking that I’d misread all the signals. I thought he had liked it. He told me in no uncertain terms that it could not happen again, as he didn’t like me that way. He then left the room, while I slumped to the floor, wondering how I was ever going to recover.” Amelia reached across and squeezed his hand. “So, that’s why you started trying to avoid him?” “Was I that obvious?” Ben rubbed his chest, wondering why it hurt so badly all these years later. “Yep. Sorry, but it was very obvious.” “It was only a couple of weeks later that I came out to you and Nate.” “So, you fell in love with Finn when you were drunk.” Ben shook his head. “No, I had had a big crush on him for a couple of years, before I, well, before that incident.” “Look, I can see why it was embarrassing back then, but I don’t see why it is such a problem now.” “Because I made a fool of myself. I was so utterly embarrassed that I couldn’t face him until now.” Ben paused. “Even now.” “But is it really that bad? I mean, you made a pass and he kissed you back, right?” “Right.” “And he wrapped his arm around you?” “Yes.” “Then, when you were nearly caught by Nate, he lied and told you he wasn’t gay.” “Right again. I didn’t even know he was gay until today.” “I still don’t get why you were so embarrassed.” “He rejected me, and he is my brother’s best friend, which meant that I had to face that rejection every day.” Amelia shook her head. “Ben, I think that he may have rejected you with his words, but his actions say something else. I think he was attracted to you and liked the kiss. When he was nearly caught by Nate, he freaked out.” About the Author Jude Rule is an author from Western Australia. This is his debut novel. Social Media Links 
 Having left the intern behind by the time Mal reached the main offices, he ran the final distance and burst into his office. Phillipe stood in the middle of the room with Audrey, Jeffery, and Frank. Something cold and nasty crawled through Mal’s gut to his chest and took root there like a heavy, jagged rock. Colt had been with Phillipe. Thoughts of car accidents, shootings, violent and sudden illness—all leaving Colt in a hospital in a coma or worse—rampaged through Mal’s brain. “Wh-where’s Colt?” Mal stammered. Phillipe looked terrified, and Frank wore an expression Mal could only describe as pissed off. Jeffery appeared stunned, and Audrey was the one pacing for once. “Mr. K, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Phillipe’s words rushed out so fast it took a second for Mal to process them and realize he was holding something out to Mal. Then it registered. Phillipe’s face was bruised, and he had a cut on one hand. “Are you all right?” Mal asked softly. He took the paper Phillipe offered, read it, frowned, reread it, and looked up at the others. “What the hell? Colt’s been kidnapped?” “Yeah. Notice they used Colt, not Colton,” Frank pointed out. Mal could only ask, “How did this happen?” “We, Colt and me, were to meet at a coffee shop,” Phillipe said. “When I got there, I found his order all over the sidewalk. Then a guy comes up to me, hits me, and gives me that note. Says, ‘Do it or Colt dies.’” Phillipe took a few deep breaths. “And no cops.” “Oh hell no,” Frank said. “We have to contact the police.” “But they said—” Jeffery started. Frank cut him off. “Yes, we can take a bag of money, and I have a few friends who can help. We will likely get Colt back. However, think. None of that is legal. These assholes need to go to jail, and without the police, that won’t happen. We’ll be nothing more than vigilantes and open to prosecution ourselves.” Frank flicked at the paper in Mal’s hand. “Whoever did this aren’t pros. Too sloppy. They’re small-time thugs, and that makes them very dangerous. Professional kidnappers rarely kill. I can’t say the same for this type.” “He’s right,” Mal agreed. “And Phillipe needs to get to a doctor.” Phillipe shook his head. “He punched my face a few times. What is really wounded is my pride because I couldn’t fight back better.” “The detectives will want to talk to him. Having him here will save time,” Frank pointed out. “You saw the guy’s face?” Phillipe nodded. “For a few seconds. I don’t know if I remember it well enough.” Frank shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Pros wouldn’t have let you see them. Pros use burner phones, not notes they hand deliver themselves.” Mal picked up the landline on his desk. “We’re not in a city, who do we contact? FBI, sheriff’s department?” He stood holding the receiver in one hand, looking around the room. Again, Frank, bless him, stepped up. “Colt was taken from Gatlinburg. Call them. If they need more help or another agency, they’ll reach out to whomever they need.” Audrey stepped forward with a notepad. “Here’s the number.” Mal nodded and dialed. He didn’t often throw his family name around, or the weight it and his money carried, but he did so now without reservation. “My name is Malone Curtis Kensington of Kensington Distillery and Still House. Put me through to whoever would handle a man being kidnapped.” After a short wait, a woman came on the line. “Mr. Kensington?” “Yes,” Mal growled. He was expecting a runaround and to have to fight to get to the correct person. Most of what he knew of the police he’d learned on television, and he knew that wasn’t the most accurate of sources. “Margo Telech. I’m the assistant chief of police. Tell me why you’ve called.” Mal took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. “I expected to have to shout at a few people before I got through to the right person. Someone vital in my company, and personally very important to me, is being held for ransom.” “By very important, you mean…?” Mal cut her off. “Yeah, we’re involved. Him and me.” “Mr. Kensington, we will get through this,” Assistant Chief Telech began. “There isn’t much you’re going to tell me I haven’t heard or that will surprise me. Your candor from the start will be most helpful.” “Mal. Call me Mal.” “Mal.” Her voice softened. “We will do everything we can to get your boyfriend back. However, I’m going to need your help. It’s important you do what my team asks. I know this is difficult, but you need to stay put until we arrive. Was there a demand for money?” “Yes. One million dollars. I’ll pay it. I can have it here in a few hours.” “You’re at your home?” she asked. “The office in my distillery. My personal home is on the same property,” Mal explained. “All right. I’ll get a team together and we’ll be there soon,” Margo said. “What should I do about the money?” Mal asked. “I can get it, but that much in cash takes a little time.” “Getting that money will draw attention, which is what we don’t want right now. Can you make preliminary arrangements quietly?” “I think so, yes.” “Go ahead and do that. I’ll see you soon,” Margo Telech said and hung up. Following Frank’s advice, Mal and Audrey began compiling a list of employees for the past five years. Their first task was flagging anyone who might have a grudge against either Mal personally or his company. That job took longer than Mal thought it would, and they were going over the last names on the list when the police arrived. Jeffery had set into motion procuring the cash if needed and had gathered some documents they thought the officers might require. Billy Krems escorted the two women and two men to Mal’s office, then excused himself. Mal stood and walked across the office, hand extended. One of the women was around fifty; the other looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I’m Mal Kensington,” Mal said. “Margo Telech.” The older of the two women folded her hands in front of her and eyed Mal up and down carefully. “I’ve seen your company rep in the media. He was on The Tonight Show, I believe. But as you and I have never met, I need to ask for some ID.” Mal offered a small smile and took his driver’s license from where he’d set it on the desk earlier and handed it over. “My identification. I trust the word of the State of Tennessee is sufficient?”       Linden stopped and glanced around the inside of the lodged. “Is anyone else here?” “No.” “Then why lock your door?” Tyler shook his head and motioned at the door. “It’s right next to the kitchen doors and looks like this is where we keep the brooms and mops. If I didn’t keep it locked, I’d have all sorts of unwanted guests. It’s a habit. If you’ll feel better, I can crank up the boilers in one of other buildings, but you’ll be damn cold and no hot shower for a good day.” The way Linden looked him up and down was unnerving. The word intense was the only thing that came to Tyler’s mind as he watched Special Agent Bourne. Linden’s expression and the way he observed Tyler with deep, very dark eyes were unwavering and unsettling. “I have a hunting knife in a drawer in the coffee table and a shotgun under the couch. It’s not loaded—feel free to check. There is a handgun in my dresser. Both guns are registered to the inn owner. I only have them because I’m out here in the middle of buttass nowhere alone for a few weeks, and the closest help is the park ranger’s station near Devils Tower and the one in Custer.” He tossed the key ring to Linden, who caught it and held it loosely in his hand. “Those keys are to every door in this entire place. Search anything you’d like. Just know I have the liquor inventory memorized.” Linden chuckled and stared down at the keys in his palm for a few seconds before closing his fingers around them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again to meet Tyler’s gaze, shaking his head slightly and extending his fist. Tyler held out one hand, palm up, and Linden set the keys in it, letting his hand rest in Tyler’s for a split second. The gesture, and Linden’s hand, was warm and oddly comforting. In the next instant, Linden opened his fingers, released the keys and pulled his hand away, stuffing it in his pocket. “Let me give you the five-cent tour,” Tyler said for something to do. He’d spent three hours with this man four months ago and hadn’t stopped thinking about him since. Now Linden was about to camp out on his couch. Linden nodded and smiled, making the corners of his eyes crinkle in a pleasant way that Tyler definitely liked. He studied his feet for a few seconds before lifting his head to be met with soft, warm, very dark eyes. “I’d like that.” Tyler walked backward into the apartment. Spreading both arms wide, he announced, “This is the entryway, and of course the main room is right off of it.” “Being close to the entry is important,” Linden said. He set his bag on the floor near the door. “The gourmet Pullman kitchen and dining nook are to your right. Note the stove is close to the dining area for extra warmth and coziness.” Linden rubbed his chin and put a serious expression on his face. “That’s definitely a sign of good design.” Tyler turned and grandly motioned to the bathroom. “The elegant spa area is over this way.” Linden laughed at that. Despite the seriousness of the situation and the reason Linden was here, his laugh was friendly and mellow. “Made ya laugh.” “I don’t suppose the spa has a shower?” “You bet, and lots of hot water, thanks to the tankless hot-water system.” Tyler crossed to a built-in cabinet between the bathroom and bedroom doors. Pulling out towels, he turned and held them out to Linden. “Do you like chili?” “Yeah.” Linden took the towels. “You don’t have to—” “Where are you going to eat?” “Thanks.” Linden held up the towels, grabbed his travel bag, and headed to the bathroom. “I’m just going to get cleaned up.” It wasn’t long after the bathroom door shut before Tyler heard the shower start up. He rummaged through his refrigerator, pulled out the chili he’d made the day before, and set it on the stove to heat. While he stirred he considered Linden. He was an FBI agent, a federal officer just like Tyler’s friend Mason, who was a park ranger. The two men were in different variations of the same profession, yet from what Tyler could see, they were polar opposites. Linden was soft-spoken and, as Tyler remembered from their first meeting, a man who put considerable thought into what he said and did. It was easy to see he was one of those very controlled individuals. Mason was anything but soft-spoken. Everything about him was out in the open. There wasn’t any mystery about him. Mason also wasn’t someone Tyler had ever been interested in any way other than as a friend. Linden might be a very different story altogether. Linden was a bundle of mystery. Maybe that’s what Tyler found intriguing. Though if Linden continued thinking Tyler was some sort of possible criminal, it wouldn’t matter. He should stop playing fantasy scenarios in his head about a romance that was unlikely to happen. What he could do was possibly help Linden find clues to catch the real killer of Julius Hernandez. After giving the chili a few stirs, Tyler checked the flame on the stove and adjusted it lower. The chili would stay at a good temperature but not burn. He turned to the refrigerator again, opened the freezer section, and pulled out a package of frozen Texas toast with cheese and garlic. Those he put in the oven, and a muffled whoosh signaled that the oven was heating as well. “Smells good.” Tyler jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Linden said quietly. Tyler spun on his heels so fast he had to grab the refrigerator handle to keep from being thrown off balance and into Linden. “It’s… I… you didn’t. That’s okay.” He was met by Linden’s dark eyes and warm smile. “Is there something I can do to help you?” Linden asked. Tyler shook his head. He took in the still-damp dark-chocolate-colored skin of Linden’s forearms and neck. Gone was the suit, replaced by faded, worn jeans, loafers, a knit thermal-type shirt, and a button-down shirt unbuttoned and hanging open with the sleeves rolled partially up. “Ah, no, I don’t think so. We have about ten minutes before the bread is warm, and the chili will be ready by then too,” Tyler said. He paused, considering what he wanted to say next. “Can I ask you something?” Linden nodded and Tyler continued. “What is it about me that makes you so sure I didn’t hurt that man?”  Bait is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and through your local library digital catalog.   RECENT RELEASE 
Book Title: Jingled Author: Evan J. Corbin Publisher: Atonement Books, LLC Cover Artist: https://openbookdesign.biz/ Release Date: November 7, 2025 Tense/POV: Third Person Genres: MM Speculative Fiction; Satire Theme: Family accepting a gay son Heat Rating: 1 out of 5 flames Length: 77 777 words/275 pages It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
When Christmas never ends… Reality does. A biting, satirical thriller about a world trapped in endless Christmas cheer. Blurb Matt Daughtry has always felt like he and his parents live in separate worlds—his shaped by the urbane, Northeastern liberal elite, theirs by Southern conservatism, homespun “common sense,” and talk show-fueled conspiracies. His homosexuality remains an open secret, something they sidestep rather than confront, much less accept. When he and his sister return for Christmas, the wrong sibling brings home a boyfriend for the first time. What starts as a tense but routine holiday gathering takes a surreal turn the next morning. Flights are canceled, pilots and flight attendants mysteriously take time off, and by the following day, an estimated seventy-eight million Americans fail to return to work. Their explanation? They just want to spend more time with their families. Christmas can be every day when you’re with family. His parents—and millions of Americans—are suffering from a bizarre condition, trapped in an endless holiday loop, determined to celebrate Christmas every day. They make choices that go against their self-interests. Blissfully unbothered by their accumulating debts, economic collapse, or even basic responsibilities, they live in a festive delusion seemingly fueled by an addictive algorithm used by an evangelical shopping app called MerryNet. At first, Matt sees no reason to get involved. He’s never been able to reach his parents before—why would this be any different? But as the syndrome spreads, paralyzing the country, he stumbles upon evidence linking the outbreak to corporate actors intent on silencing their perceived right-wing enemies. Faced with a choice between complicity and action, Matt realizes that exposing the truth may come at the cost of his career, safety, and sanity. But the country may slide further into a dystopian nightmare if he doesn't act. With the help of his boyfriend and sister, Matt must not only uncover the syndrome’s cause and cure but also confront the deeper divisions tearing his family—and the nation—apart. Excerpt Chapter 1 Matt did the math. This was the fifth year he had flown from Chicago to Charlotte to see his family. Five years. Five flights down. Five more back. Five broken promises. He made the same promise every year after Christmas, usually somewhere between his parents’ driveway and the ticketing counter at the airport to fly back home. Never Again. Yet, here he was, sitting in the driver’s seat of the mid-sized rental car parked outside his parents’ house. Again. At least this year, he’d brought reinforcements. “I just had my vape a second ago,” Matt said, wedging his hand between the driver’s seat and the gear shift, his fingers fanned out, groping for the one thing that would ease his anxiety. “Is it in your coat pocket?” Grant asked. “I checked,” Matt said, using his other hand to frisk his chest again. “Sweetheart,” Grant said, pointing at him. “It’s in your lap.” “Jesus,” Matt said. “I should put it on one of those chains like they have for pens at the bank.” Grant brought his matching vape to his lips and sucked on it. “Spoken like two people who could absolutely quit any time they want to.” Matt coughed. “Maybe once Christmas is over. Until then, I can’t handle any more anxiety.” His thoughts turned back to his parents. He could recite their lines like a Broadway play that lingered long after its popularity had waned. His mother would allude to a “war on Christmas.” As a proxy for the Northeastern liberal elite, he could count on his father to hold him personally liable for the perceived collapse of family values and decency. He knew it would usually earn a ceasefire to see him and his sister, except this year, the wrong sibling was bringing a boyfriend home for the first time. “It’s pretty,” Grant said, craning his neck to look at the two-story house with the white vinyl siding. Matt scoffed. The home he grew up in was scarcely any different from the other homes on the block. He knew his boyfriend was only trying to help, but he ignored him and took another slow drag on his vape. He exhaled a thin plume of vapor, watching it curl around the steering wheel in a car that grew colder with each minute he procrastinated. He stuffed the vape into his coat. Matt thought of his vape and figured he wouldn’t be the only one with a concealed weapon at his parents’ house. His father, a proud concealed-carry permit owner, wouldn’t let the family forget his holstered "right to bear arms" strapped under his armpit. Honestly, Matt thought, it barely qualified as “concealed” when his dad worked it into every discussion, from gas prices to his latest election conspiracy. Matt, by contrast, prided himself on his ability to keep secrets like the one now discreetly tucked into his coat. He’d never been caught, though his frequent trips to the bathroom hadn’t escaped his mother’s relentless curiosity. Her concern for his well-being was as unwavering as his determination to dodge the interrogations she called “conversations.” Last year, after two clandestine trips to the bathroom in less than an hour, with the earnestness only she could muster, she’d asked if he needed to see a doctor about his prostate. At twenty-nine years old, he knew the suggestion was absurd. Matt resisted the temptation to tell her that if he wanted his prostate examined, he had an app for that. About the Author Evan is a member of the LGBTQ community who fancies himself as a playboy socialite, living in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Between work and lucid moments of sobriety, he writes a little. His debut novel is a light-hearted work that still manages to confront religious hypocrisy and contemporary LGBTQ struggles to balance their loss of culture with new-found civil rights. Social Media Links 
QSFer J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer contemporary magical realism book out, River City book 2: Down the River. Nine years have passed since a group of strangers first met at a magical little restaurant in East Sacramento called Ragazzi. They have all been touched by its subtle magic, and have become a family. With the tragic death of one of them, the ripples spread through the entire group, exposing secrets and revealing truths that many of them would rather not face. Dave and Marcos are battling their own demons. Matteo seeks an embezzler at Ragazzi, while Diego struggles to hold on to his son, Gio. Carmelina fears Daniele won’t take no for an answer. And both Ben and Sam are dealing with tragic losses that have turned their lives upside down. Into the mix come a few new characters—Ainsley, a Sac State student studying to be a doctor; a mysterious strange who is stalking someone in the group; and a few new love interests who may have agendas of their own. It’s 2024, and the cast of River City is back. What secrets will be revealed before the last page turns? ABOUT THE SERIES: The River City series is a heady blend of secrets, friendships, a little bit of magic, and a bunch of Italian cooking that will warm your heart. Warnings: Death of several characters. Get It At Amazon | Publisher | B&N | Kobo | Apple | Smashwords | Vivlio | Universal Buy LinkExcerpt
Ainsley Kim stared out of the window at the cars as they passed on Folsom Boulevard in a steady row of sparkling red and white, their lights scattering and twinkling like fairy dust across the rain-splattered glass. It was mesmerizing—so much life out there… and in here, as she was rudely reminded by the diner clearing his throat behind her. “So sorry!” She spun around, reaching for the Toast point-of-sale device that hung from a custom-made pocket in her clean white apron that said Ragazzi in neat black letters. She turned her attention back to her customers. “Are you ready to order?” The one who’d cleared his throat was a sharply dressed man in his mid-fifties—lawyer if she’d had to guess—his neatly trimmed black hair turning silver on the sides. He glared at the menu as if it were opposing counsel, squinting through his wire-framed glasses and scowling. “Damned print is so small on these things.” His dining partner, another man in a black suit and tie, but without a hair on his head, chuckled. “You’re just getting old, Andy. Order the tagliatelle. It’s what you always get.” Bald Head offered her a warm smile. “So sorry for my partner’s behavior. Rough day in court today.” Ainsley hid a grin. She was good at reading people. “Not a problem. So… the tagliatelle?” Andy nodded. “Sure. With arrabbiata sauce. And ask the chef to make it a little extra spicy.” She tapped it into the POS, feeling more like a glorified data entry clerk than a waitress. “You got it. And you, sir?” “Don’t let him fool you. Kel knows what he wants. He just likes to play with his prey.” Andy grimaced, then managed a weak smile. “Sorry for the foul mood. I hate losing.” Rich, white, and a lawyer to boot? You have no idea what losing is. “Not a problem.” She flashed him her best you’re the customer so I’ll pretend I like you smile. “I’ll have the gnocchi in a ragu sauce, and an appetizer of your delightful burrata.” Kel flipped the menu over. “Add a glass of Chateau Ciel. I, unlike my friend here, had a lovely day. Signed a new artist for the gallery, a talented Korean painter named Jun Seo Jang.” His eyes fixed on her. “Do you know him?” Ainsley blinked, caught between the casual racism of assuming that all Koreans knew each other—maybe he didn’t mean it that way?—and the fact that she did actually know them. Or of them, anyhow. Jang was one of her idols. Customer service won out. “Yes. They are very good. I studied them in art class.” Kel grinned. “Then you must come see his… their pieces. Sorry, old dog, new tricks. I’ll be getting the first of them next week.” He pulled out his wallet and extracted a card. “Kelton O’Malley, Red Roof Gallery.” She took it, staring at it. It seemed to sparkle under the restaurant’s mood lighting. She blinked and the sparkle went away. She stuffed it in her pocket. Nobody used business cards anymore. So old school. “Thank you. I’ll try to come by. It’s a bit busy, with school and work and all…” And taking care of her mother. “Ah, what’s your major?” “Molecular biology.” It came out automatically. Her father had wanted her to “make something of herself,” not just be another poor immigrant like himself, working at minimum wage jobs. She’d been at it so long, doing what her parents wanted her to do, that it almost seemed like she wanted it, too. “Impressive.” He winked. “Still, it’s good to hear that you have an appreciation for the arts as well.” She blushed. That comment hit a little too close to home. “I’ll find some time to stop by.” “Wonderful. Jun Seo will be there next Thursday night, if you want to meet… them.” Ainsley touched the edge of the table to steady herself. “They’ll be here… in town?” She was already calculating how she could rearrange things to be at the gallery. “They personally supervise the set-up at all their new galleries.” He grinned. “See, that whole pronoun thing’s not so hard.” She suppressed a snort. Boomers were always making such a big deal about it. “Let me get those orders in for you.” She gave them a small bow—ingrained behavior from two decades growing up in the Kim household—and slipped away. “Need anything here?” she asked her next table, a young gay couple from the looks of it, who were busy staring rapturously into each other’s eyes like a couple lovestruck teenagers. “Just some water,” the blond said, never breaking his gaze, his hand wrapped tightly around the other man’s. A single plate of pasta sat between them. “You got it.” A two-for-one, or twofer, they called it—when two clients shared a dish, usually to save costs. Matteo had needed to raise prices again last month to account for inflation. Luckily Ragazzi was doing well enough that they’d expanded into a new addition, taking over the old bar next door for Diego’s cooking classes. She twirled through the restaurant like a ballerina, checking on tables, her footsteps lighter than they’d been in months. Jun Seo Jang was coming to town. She had so many questions for them. How did you find your inspiration? When did you know you wanted to be an artist? How did you let your parents down gently? Ainsley Kim had a secret. She wanted to be an artist more than anything else in the whole wide world. She wanted to create things, pieces of art that would make people frown and smile and nod knowingly as they stood in front of them, stroking their chins. Like her father did as a hobby. She wanted to meet Jang, but she also wanted to become them. The thought of life as a medical researcher left her cold, but her parents had invested so much in that dream, both money and hope. How could she bear to disappoint them? Maybe it was better if she didn’t go to the gallery on Thursday. Better for everyone involved. Right? Author Bio
Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was 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 all the people like him were. He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends. A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and was the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) for almost three years. Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor/ Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.otherworldsink.com/@jscottcoatsworth Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth Author Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/ Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/ Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ  “Let’s do this quickly and safely. Once we have this level secure, we can use it as a base of operations.” Sophia adjusted her Taser holster and mock saluted Declan and Jonas before she tapped Kai’s arm and they moved off to their designated search area. Jonas pressed his earbud, turning it off. “Think we’ll find more of the crew alive?” he asked softly. “I almost wish we don’t,” Declan replied after his earbud was off. He patted Jonas’s shoulder and turned his earbud back on. Jonas followed suit as they moved through the rooms. “Did you recognize that man?” Jonas asked. Find more diverse snippets on the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Endosymbiont is available in eBook, Kindle Unlimited and through your local library digital catalog.   SERIES TOUR Boys' Love Series by Rebecca James 
SERIES DESCRIPTION Falling for his costar wasn’t in the script. This series is based on the boys’ love genre popular in Asian countries such as Thailand, Korea, Japan, Taiwan, the Phillipines, and Vietnam. My books are set in Thailand, where “fanservice” is very popular, and center around the premise of two male costars falling for each other while filming a boys’ love series. Books one and two go together. Books three and four can each be read on their own. Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, New Adult Overall Heat Rating for the series: 3 out of 5 flames Cover Artist: Feddefar The ebooks are available only through the author's website. Paperbacks available soon. BOOK DETAILS BOOK 1 
Considering Rama's ex-girlfriends nicknamed him "iceman," fanservice with his male partner in a bl series might be a challenge. Book Title: Boys’ Love Length: 185 pages Release Date: January 1, 2022 Tense/POV: first person present tense/alternating POV with occasional other character pov Tropes: Forbidden love, actors romance, slow burn Themes: Coming out, bisexual awakening, past abuse from family member, love Book 2 is the sequel to book 1. This book does not end on a cliffhanger. Blurb Rama’s dream is to be an actor, so when he's offered an audition for an upcoming Boys’ Love drama, he jumps at the chance. Due to the popularity of bl dramas, a lead part in one is considered the quickest route to fame for young male actors. Rama isn't worried about playing opposite a man; he's more concerned about the outward affection that fanservice in the bl industry demands from its actors--his past girlfriends didn’t dub him "iceman" for nothing. Recently outed in an industry that prefers their actors to be straight, Pravat feels lucky when he wins a lead role in a new series. The phenomenal chemistry between him and his co-star launches them to top fan popularity. By the time Pravat realizes he's falling for Rama, it's too late to turn back. BOOK 2 
Rama considered himself to be straight until he fell for his male costar in a Thai boys' love series. Book Title: In Love Length: 197 pages Release Date: February 27, 2022 Tropes: friends to lovers, coworkers, actors, hurt/comfort Themes: bisexual awakening, coming out, childhood trauma This is a sequel to book 1. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Blurb It sounds like a TV romance, but for Rama Sathianthai, it's reality. The chemistry between the two young actors and their popularity as a couple has won them a second season of their series, which means they'll have to keep their budding relationship a secret. The bl industry frowns on gay actors, particularly those who want to date each other. But the couple is determined to make things work. Meanwhile, the upcoming wedding of his favorite cousin threatens to throw Rama into family drama due to his recent confession that his aunt molested him when he was an adolescent. With the cards stacked against them, Rama and Pravat worry that love might not be enough to keep them together. BOOK 3 
It's difficult to remain professional when your new BL partner is your old crush. Book Title: Baby Love Length: 260 pages Release Date: January 1, 2023 Tropes: Co-workers romance, actors romance, hurt/comfort Themes: Coming out, childhood trauma, family loyalty, love It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Blurb When Spin--or "Baby," as his friends nicknamed him due to his affectionate and clingy nature--joins a new Boys' Love production company, he never expects to be coupled with his old crush from university, Park Rardchawat. He knows from experience how easy it is to get too attached to your partner in this business, and, with his sister's tuition to pay for, he can't afford to get lost in his feelings. But with competitive fanservice blurring the lines, it isn't long before Spin finds himself falling hard for his handsome costar. Now, it's his heart as well as his job he has to worry about. BOOK 4 
Can two best friends play lovers for the camera? Book Title: Friend Ship Length: 285 pages Release Date: August 1, 2025 Tropes: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, extravert/intravert Themes: found family, parental rejection, responsibility, love It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Blurb The only reason Mee Noi agrees to help Sud with his video exam for theater arts is because Sud insists Mee Noi is the only guy he can convincingly do a love scene with. Neither of them expect the project to turn into an offer to play a couple in a boys' love series, but that's exactly what happens. Since it's Sud's big chance to make his dream of being an actor a reality, Mee Noi is determined to make it work. But although acting is surprisingly fun, it's also stressful and exhausting, especially when you don't know what you're doing, and soon it begins to take both a physical and a psychological toll on Mee Noi as painful memories from the past begin to surface. When Sud's video project wins him and Mee Noi an audition for a bl series, it's a dream come true. But he's pretty sure it's more of a nightmare for his introverted friend, who only got into this to help Sud out. Yet Mee Noi accepts the part when it's offered, and the gesture adds to the budding feelings Sud's starting to have for his best friend. When Mee Noi has a frightening panic attack at work, Sud tells himself that he must bury those feelings. Mee Noi hasn't had an easy life; the last thing Sud wants to do is put more pressure on him. The worst irony would be for them to play friends-to-lovers in the series only to have their real friendship end because of it. EXCERPT from Boys’ Love, book 1 “Tell me all about Pravat,” my sister demands, plopping down on the gold sofa and pulling a fringed throw pillow onto her lap. “You probably already know more about him than I do.” “Did he say anything about your audition?” “Just that I did well.” Chinda grins. “You really did. It surprised me. Did you talk about anything personal?” “Thanks, and you’re being silly,” I scoff. “We talked about the job.” “Come on, Rama, there must be something. Please tell me.” She pouts. My sister and I have always been close, and I admit I cave to her wiles most of the time. “He told me he’s still in university and that he’s gay but doesn’t have a boyfriend right now. He said boyfriends tend to get jealous of what he does. This is just between us,” I belatedly warn her. “It’s not a secret that he’s gay. That came out sometime last year when he was outed by his co-star.” I frown. “He was outed? That’s awful.” Chinda nods. “Yeah. Especially since it’s preferred that bl actors be straight. His co-star claimed Pravat came onto him, which makes Pravat sound like a troublemaker. I think the guy lied because he was jealous of Pravat’s popularity.” My mind snags on the first thing she said. “Why do they prefer the actors to be straight? I would think gay actors would do better in a gay romance.” Chinda shrugs. “Less drama, I guess. Easier if there’s no chance of feelings getting into the way. I think, too, that viewers like the idea of two men falling in love against their natural inclinations. What else did you and Pravat talk about?” I’m digesting the information and take a moment to respond. “He mentioned Y-couples, and I told him you’d bring me up to speed on them.” “I can definitely do that.” Jumping up from her seat, my sister runs for her room, returning seconds later with her iPad. “As I’ve already explained to you, the term Y-couple comes from Yaoi, a popular genre in Japan that pairs two men together.” She pulls up a video. “This is the most popular Y-couple right now. ChaoFinn.” I frown, looking at the thumbnail of two guys smiling at the camera. “What kind of name is that?” “It’s their ship name. Their two names together, Chao and Finn. You and Pravat have already been dubbed Pravma.” I watch the video, taken at a fan meeting, of Chao and Finn holding hands, wrapping their arms around each other, and doing other romantic things that have their fans screaming and clapping for them. When Chao sits down and pulls Finn onto his lap, the cheers and applause get even louder. “This is what you have to look forward to,” my sister says, smiling. Alarmed, I look from the screen to her and back again. “Do you really think so?” “Yes. Believe me, the two of you are hot together. I mean, from an outsider’s standpoint. You’re my brother and not hot to me.” I chuckle. “Thanks for clearing that up. But can you really imagine me sitting on someone’s lap like this?” I ask. Imagining doing that with Pravat Benjawan has my face heating. “If you allow yourself to relax, maybe. You have to play the game if you want the fame. That reminds me. You need a manager.” I groan. “They’ve already started calling me. I have no idea who to pick.” “Ask Pravat. I’m sure he can help you with that. You’re going to have to put yourself out there, Rama.” Annoyed at being lectured by my younger sister, I harrumph and go back to watching the video. 
About the Author Rebecca James grew up escaping into books because book people were more interesting than real-life people. This naturally led to creating her own book people and the worlds they live in. Somewhere during all this, Rebecca found herself captivated with the tender side of relationships between men, which eventually led her to write "slash" (M/M) fanfiction and later to brave the world of M/M romance publishing. If she could write full time, all the time, she would be happiest. Whether she's writing about tough bikers, hot shifters, aliens, or Thai actors falling in love on the job, Rebecca puts passion into all her characters. Author Links Website | Facebook | Facebook group: Rebecca’s Romantic Readers BlueSky | Instagram | Tiktok | Newsletter sign-up 
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