 Mason got to his knees and looked around. Riece was sprawled on his back less than a foot away. None of his limbs were at odd angles, and Mason saw no large pools of blood. So far a number of pluses, and the only minus was the fact that they seemed to have dropped into some sort of pit. Reaching out he took hold of Riece’s arm. Before he could say or do anything else, Riece jerked upright and gasped. He twisted in one direction, then the other, so fast Mason couldn’t stop him. Riece’s eyes were wide, and Mason wasn’t sure he was processing what had happened. “Whoa, whoa, Riece. Sit still.” Mason scooted closer and grabbed ahold of both of Riece’s arms. Riece turned and stared at him, holding his breath. “Calm down. Take a few deep breaths and wiggle your toes for me.” “What?” “I need to know you don’t have a spinal injury. Now wiggle your fucking toes.” Mason used the firmest voice he could without snapping the words out. Riece’s eyes got wider. He looked at his feet, bent his knees, moved each foot, then whispered, “My toes move okay.” “Hold your arms above your head and then turn them in a circle,” Mason ordered, using a more gentle tone. He recognized immediately he’d have to keep Riece focused, otherwise he’d have too many thoughts to process at once. Giving Riece orders in a clear and logical sequence was the way Mason could keep him calm. Riece immediately did as told without ever taking his eyes off Mason’s. “They move okay.” “Turn around. Let me see if you’re cut or bleeding anywhere.” Mason used one hand to nudge Riece to one side, then the other. “Feel any bruising?” “My back maybe a little.” Mason turned Riece to face him and used two fingers to ease his shirt up. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when Riece’s skin tone was normal. “We’ll want to check each other for bruising, especially abdominal, which could mean internal bleeding,” Mason explained. Riece’s eyes widened more, and Mason thought they would pop straight out of their sockets like some bizarre cartoon character’s. “Do a sit-up for me.” Again Riece complied. “Feels fine. Like a sit-up. I don’t like doing sit-ups.” “I needed just the one,” Mason said and chuckled. “Now, you look me over—back, neck, head—for open wounds.” He turned around and smiled when he felt Riece’s fingertips start at the base of his skull and brush lightly down to his belt. “You should wiggle your toes and pull up your shirt,” Riece said softly. Mason mimicked Riece’s actions and bent his knees, turned his feet in a small circle, and told him, “My toes wiggle too.” He stood up and offered Riece his hand, pulling him to his feet. Then Mason lifted his shirt. “Anything.” “Lots.” Riece took a deep breath and smirked. “But it’s all supposed to be there.” He looked up at Mason. The few seconds of normal, relaxed behavior vanished, and Riece’s face crumpled. He took two steps forward, slipped both arms around Mason’s waist, and pressed against him, shuddering. “My fault. I’m sorry. This is my fault.” “Hey, hey, shh.” Mason held Riece close with one arm and used his other hand to cup the back of Riece’s head. He glanced up at the opening they’d dropped through. “It’s okay. Nothing is your fault, and it’s only ten or twelve feet to the top. Not that bad. We’ll get out. I’ll get you out. Don’t worry.” He spent a few minutes simply holding Riece. To Mason this was a minor setback. To Riece it was a disaster of epic proportions. He didn’t step back from Riece until he felt the tremors running through Riece lessen. “How will we get out?” Riece looked around while wiping one hand over his face. “I didn’t think or realize what I’d stepped on.” “Don’t worry about it.” Mason looked down at his belt and reached for his radio. “You’re fine, I’m fine, we’ll call for….” He put his hand where his radio should have been clipped to his belt. Riece’s gaze followed his. They both turned in a circle looking around the small area they’d landed in. Silently Riece bent and picked up the radio in two hands. “It must have caught on the wood,” he said. Mason’s radio had been dislodged from his belt when they fell through the wooden covering over the pit. It had landed squarely under Riece, probably accounting for the slight bruising he felt along his back. Right now it was in pieces. “Still not a disaster. Once we’re up top, we can hike to where we’ll be in the open, get a cell signal, or use your locator beacon.” Mason looked up as he spoke. Lengthy pieces of wood planking covered with vines and long grass partially obscured the view of the sky above. Since they had been down in a gully to begin with, much of the rest of the sky was blocked by trees. “This would be a lot worse if one of us were hurt and couldn’t walk. See if you can find the batteries.” “Still think there aren’t any poachers?” Riece asked. He leaned down and squinted at the dirt while Mason paced around, shuffling the toe of his boot along the ground. Gone Away is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and library digital catalog.    
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 I thoroughly enjoyed reading the story of these two men. I admit, I was sad to see the story come to an end.
Wally and Jonathan were college sweethearts. The thing that pulled them apart in college was the same thing that pushed them back together a decade later, their career paths. There was no huge crisis during their college years, they simply realized to get what they wanted out of life they had to concentrate on careers first. That meant going separate ways. Then those careers shoved them together again. They’re more mature, more able to handle the pressure of life and career demands. The entire story is told through Wally’s eyes and we see how determined he and Jonathan are to make their second chance at their love work. I think what impressed me the most about this story was no matter the pressure exerted on them from outside forces they didn’t lose sight of what they wanted for themselves and between themselves. They stand together when the world makes their relationship difficult to maintain. There were opportunities for them to lash out at one another, but they moved through those times. Their relationship was a wonderful example of overcoming odds by people keeping their heads and finding workable solutions. The story takes place in the world of Formula 1 auto racing. I’ve watched races, and enjoyed them, but I don’t know anything about the technicalities of the sport, learning what goes on behind the scenes added a wonderful layer to this story. It was fun seeing it from an insider point of view. I highly recommend this story. There is sporting action, tension and a happy, fought for and hard won, ever after romance! **a copy of this book was provided by the author for a fair and unbiassed review** BLOG TOUR 
Book Title: Driven Together Author and Cover Artist: Neil S. Plakcy Publisher: Samwise Books Release Date: February 23, 2026 Tense/POV: First person/past tense Genres: Contemporary MM Sports Romance Tropes: Slow burn Themes: Second chance at love, coming out Heat Rating: 3 out of 5 flames Length: 81 000 words/301 pages It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited and Paperback 
They were each other’s first love—and the one that got away. Blurb When journalist Wally Pulaski reunites with his college sweetheart Jonathan Hirsch, now a Formula 1 driver, old feelings ignite with dangerous speed. Jonathan is fighting for the championship of his life. Wally is assigned to cover the season, reporting every triumph and failure to a global audience that demands objectivity. Falling in love again could cost them everything they’ve built. As the Formula 1 circus sweeps from Monaco’s glittering streets to historic European circuits and roaring modern tracks, Wally is pulled deeper into a world of precision engineering, split-second decisions, and relentless scrutiny. Behind the glamour lies a sport where careers are made and broken in fractions of a second, where every personal choice is magnified under the spotlight. Balancing professional integrity with unresolved passion becomes a high-wire act. Media pressure mounts. Rivalries intensify. And the closer Jonathan comes to his dream, the harder it is for either man to pretend their hearts aren’t still in the race. Driven Together is a second-chance MM romance set against the adrenaline and international spectacle of Formula 1. Combining the emotional depth of Tal Bauer and the sports-romance energy loved by readers of Rachel Reid, it delivers an intimate story of ambition, identity, and the courage to choose love in a world that never slows down. As the season intensifies and the spotlight grows harsher, Wally and Jonathan must decide what they’re willing to risk for a second chance at the love they never forgot. Because in Formula 1, every fraction of a second matters—and so does every choice of the heart. Ten years after losing each other, they have one chance to get it right—and this time, the stakes are higher than ever Excerpt I looked at him, really looked. Jonathan Hirsch, Monaco Grand Prix finalist, sitting in a dive bar in Monte Carlo at midnight, asking me to take a chance on something that might be wonderful or might be a complete disaster. “Okay,” I said. “Okay?” “Okay, let’s see where this goes. Barcelona to Spa, five races to figure out if we’re brave enough to make this work.” Jonathan’s smile was radiant. “That’s all I’m asking for.” He kissed me across the small table, soft and sweet and tasting like beer and possibility. Around us, the bar continued its late-night rhythm, oblivious to the fact that a Formula 1 driver and a motorsports journalist had just decided to rewrite their carefully planned lives. When we broke apart, Jonathan was grinning. “What?” I asked. “I was just thinking,” he said. “Once, we were too practical to try long distance. Now we’re going to try dating while you cover my races. We’ve either gotten much braver or much stupider.” “Probably both,” I admitted. “But you know what? I’m okay with that.” We finished our beers and walked back toward the harbor, where the parties still buzzed. Jonathan tugged me toward the paddock. Behind the glitter, the Monaco Grand Prix was already vanishing, piece by piece. Crews swarmed over the cars with military precision, wiping them down, draining fluids, and sliding them into padded crates as if they were Fabergé eggs instead of machines built for speed. The air still vibrated with leftover adrenaline. The sharp tang of fuel, the sweet stink of rubber ground into the asphalt, the faint bite of hot brakes cooling in the night mixed with the briny breeze from the harbor, a perfume of glamour and grit all at once. Everywhere I turned, there was motion and sound: the staccato crack of impact wrenches, the slap of gloves on metal, the hollow thud of crates sealing shut. Cables coiled like sleeping snakes at the workers’ feet as garage walls folded into flat panels and tool chests slammed closed, the paddock dissolving from carnival into pure efficiency. I couldn’t look away. One moment it had been champagne and music and color; now it was stripped to bare bones. Somehow that made it even more impressive. The glamour was temporary, but the precision and the discipline was permanent. I breathed it in, dizzy with the noise and smells and sheer scale of it all. My first Grand Prix was ending, but even in its aftermath I felt the pulse of something bigger than myself, alive and relentless. “By morning, you won’t even know we were here,” Jonathan said beside me in his Meridian jacket. “Barcelona’s only a few hundred miles. The trucks will drive overnight, and the setup crew will already be waiting.” I nodded, picturing cars cocooned in trailers, engineers and mechanics scattering onto buses and budget flights while Jonathan and his teammates slipped onto a private jet with their race engineers. The Monaco Grand Prix was over, but the season stretched ahead. Twenty-two more races, five more chances to figure out if second chances were worth the risk. About the Author Neil S. Plakcy is an award-winning author of sexy, fast-paced MM romances including The Big Race, about which Joyfully Jay wrote “A truly enjoyable read.” He also writes the Ormond Yard series of Victorian MM romances, and the Love on series of sun-kissed South Beach romps. His website is www.mahubooks.com. Author Links Facebook | Pinterest | Twitter | Instagram | Linkedin Substack | Threads | Tiktok | YouTube 
Meg Macy has a new MM contemporary romance out, Love Is Love book two: Love Me Do. Longtime friends Jackson Riley and Juliette (aka Jules) Baxter are committed to fulfilling their first year of business at their breakfast café, but trouble is brewing again in their personal lives. Jack and Reese Baxter are in a committed relationship -- or are they? Jack's not so certain given Reese's continued reluctance to come out of the closet. Jules has ended her polyamorous relationships, but she's juggling her romantic attraction to two café staff members - a man and a woman. Jules's parents split in their support of the cafe, and Reese's mother is making a big stink as well. When more details of Jack's secret past rise from the ashes, everything is thrown in turmoil. Will they all survive to celebrate? Warnings: Anxiety, past abuse, foster care, trans attack, cutting About the Series In the Love Is Love series, three LGBTQA+ contemporary romance novels explore past hurts, healing, and the vulnerability of gay love and acceptance. Friendship, trust, courage, and resilience unite to combat fear and homophobia in reshaping lives and communities. Universal Buy Link | GoodreadsExcerpt Juli eyes Jack. “How come you two didn’t stay at the Unicorn until midnight on New Year’s Eve?” He glances over the table at Reese, whose cheeks flush again. “We agreed to go home early. My man gets overwhelmed with so many people.” Jack leans over and whispers a phrase that Chris doesn’t catch, then taps out a pattern on the table with a finger. “You good?” Reese taps the same pattern with a smile and visibly relaxes. But he keeps his eyes on the table, avoiding the growing crowd around them. Chris steers the conversation in a different direction, figuring that might help as well. “I heard last year the Unicorn was so crowded, people couldn’t get in.” “Yeah,” Jack says. “I was so squashed, I got bruises.” “You kissed all the pretty boys that night,” Juli teases him. “You went missing a few times, too. Bet you were popular in the men's restroom, is that it?” “Hey, I missed my friends after being gone,” he says, his face scarlet from his hairline to his neck. “But Stevie and me left for Blake’s house. They don’t like crowds, neither.” Reese remains silent, eyes hooded. Chris saw the social media posts from over a year ago, and Juli’s right—Jack was the life of that party. A couple photos showed him sandwiched between two guys on the dance floor, hugging, kissing, groping. Juli squeals when the waiter sets her pulled pork entrée down with a separate plate of French fries. “Oh my God and the angels, these are so good!” He steals a few garlic fries. “Remember you owe me, babe.” “For drinking some of your milkshake?” “Some? Like more’n half!” Jack finishes his salad bowl and leans against Reese’s shoulder. “I’m stuffed, that was so good. Glad we didn’t order that churro. You’re as bad as my man chowing down on beef, cheese, and bacon all together. Talk about risking a heart attack.” Reese shakes his head, his mouth turning up into a half smile. “Don’t listen to him. More than eighty percent of vegetarians go back to eating meat.” “I’m pescatarian. Just for that, I’ll making pasta with tofu tomorrow for dinner.” “Hmm. I might have to work late.” “What a coward! You won’t get a tattoo neither.” “My body is a temple, not a canvas—” Juli giggles at their teasing exchange. “Love always wins in the end.” Chris notices a tall, well-built guy in a hoodie staring at them near the door before he saunters over to their table with a big grin. Doesn’t say anything, but stands behind Jack, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Cocks his head, clearly listening. “You ain’t gonna believe this. I was sat down when this lady comes up to me, asking—” Seeing Chris point a finger behind him, Jack twists around in surprise. “The hell?” The stranger pulls him up from the bench and gives him a ferocious bear hug. “Tink! Knew I’d run into you at some point.” Jack pulls free. “Never expected to see you in Michigan—wait, hold on.” He turns toward the table. “Hey, everyone. Kyle Kingston is an actor friend from New York. This is my business partner, Jules Baxter, and Chris Bouchard. And here’s my hot man, Reese Baxter.” Already standing, Reese extends a hand to shake. The actor accepts and gives Jack a knowing smirk, which puzzles Chris. Is Kyle gay or straight? He eyes Juli with interest, winking at her and acting more like a “bro” with a swagger, but keeps a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Chris notices how Reese looks more stone-faced while Jack and Kyle exchange tidbits about theater friends they knew back in New York. At last the actor glances around at them, as if realizing they’re all listening. “What kind of business are you in, Tink?” the actor asks. “Running a breakfast café,” Jack says. “Here Comes the Sun's north of the river. You should stop in and see it. I can text you the address. You still got the same number? Did you ever replace your Android, that damned screen was so scratched....” Chris stays quiet, but Juli’s attempts to get a word in edgewise are hit or miss. She glances his way and hides a smile behind one hand. Signals him to leave by hooking a thumb at the door. He tosses money on the table to cover their part of the bill. “Nice meeting you, Kyle! See you guys later.” Juli hurries outside, Chris trailing her, but she turns and holds out a few bills. “This wasn’t a date, remember, so I’ll pay for myself.” “I just figured you wanted to get out of there fast.” “I did! You saw Reese? I swear steam came out of his ears,” she says, laughing hard. “He is soooo jealous. I could tell if Kyle has the hots for Jack, didn’t you think so? I wonder if there’s more between them than we know.” “I remember Stevie or Blake talking about some guy Jack was dating in New York.” Juli rubs her hands together with a wicked gleam in her blue eyes. “You mean more than a hookup? Oooh. Guess I’ll have to dig for the gossip! If Blake doesn’t know, then for sure Stevie will tell me.” “She doesn’t know everything about Jack, though,” Chris says, “and Stevie claimed that Jack avoided committed relationships. He’s been with Reese for what, over six months?” “Yeah, Jack resisted whenever I tried to them up for a blind date last year when we opened the café. Hey, today was a lot of fun,” she says. “Sometimes I get so wrapped up at home or doing a bunch of errands, I never enjoy a day off.” “Yeah, I get that. I’m also Stevie’s personal assistant, doing her laundry and getting her groceries. Without the benefits—money or sex,” Chris adds with a wink. Juli bursts out laughing again, her reddish-gold hair framing her face like a halo. Author Bio 
National bestselling author Meg Macy is a reader first and foremost. She’s always found comfort, adventure, and connection in books—which might explain why she now writes stories that offer all three. Best known for her Shamelessly Adorable Teddy Bear Mystery series (Kensington), several Christmas romance novellas with rescue pets, and as one-half of D.E. Ireland, the Agatha Award-nominated duo behind the Eliza Doolittle and Professor Higgins mysteries, Meg has long embraced the cozy end of fiction. Now, she’s rewriting the rules with a new direction: LGBTQA+ romantic suspense —queer characters in a cozy setting, with spice, intrigue, and plenty of emotional payoff. M/M or M/F polyamory, traditional or trailblazing, her stories are comfort reads with a twist. Unique? Yep. Meg loves breaking the rules. She lives with her writing companion, Mr. Whiskers the cat, and prefers pages to parties any day. Author Website: http://www.megmacy.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/authormegmacy/ Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/MegMacyAuthor Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/meg.macy.author/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15751255.Meg_Macy Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/meg-macy/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Meg-Macy/author/B01N3KTK1N 
 My snippet this week is from For the Long Run.  Jay’s insides twisted in excitement mixed with apprehension. Eric couldn’t be too angry with him or he wouldn’t be making such an effort to pursue Jay. Still, Jay hadn’t called, and he should have, if nothing more than to cut things off and not leave Eric hanging. Now he had to explain everything. Better to get it all out in the open and find out if Jay’s life would be a deal breaker before they went too much farther. He smiled softly, suddenly feeling like a shy and uncertain teenager. All he could manage was a shaky “Okay.” Find more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. For the Long Run is available in eBook, paperback, audio, through Kindle Unlimited and library digital catalogs.    NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Works Like a Lavender Charm Author: Dann Hazel Publisher: The Original Press, LLC Cover Artist: Dann Hazel, Josh Fippen Release Date: April 13, 2026 Tense/POV: third person, past tense, single POV Genres: MM Romance Paranormal Tropes: Small town romance, destined love, investigator partners, slow-burn Themes: Forgiveness, fate, love powerful enough to heal generations, pursuit of justice Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 59 000 words/225 pages It is part of the Tansy Hollow Gay Romance Series, but can be enjoyed as a standalone. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links Amazon | Kobo | B&N | Smashwords | Apple Books 
A sweeping gay romance blending second chances, small-town charm, ancestral secrets, and a love powerful enough to heal generations. Blurb When Austin attorney Charles Towne-Landon learns he has inherited the historic Chadwick House in Tansy Hollow, America’s Gay Mecca, it feels like fate offering him a second chance. Overlooked for partnership and disillusioned with big-city politics, Charles is ready for something more—more purpose, more belonging, maybe even more love. This one protects its own. Excerpt "Malbec, please," he said with a smile to the volunteer. He paid her the exorbitant price for red wine in a plastic cup and gave her a generous tip, to boot. Slowly, he moved into the majestic lobby area, cradling his cup of wine like a security blanket. He sipped, then moved toward an interesting piece of artwork hanging along a wall close to one of the double-door entrances to the theatre. He looked at the piece intently, as though studying it, absorbing it so that he'd never forget. And yet looking engaged did nothing to combat his deep feeling of loneliness. A man shouldn't go to a venue of great social expectations in a strange community where he knows no one. No matter the import of the play, or the playwright, the event was an alienating reminder of how lost he was in his murky life. How lost he had always been. Curiously, he felt a strong sense of being scrutinized. He looked to his right and saw only a heterosexual couple pretending to be interested in a portrait when they were really waiting impatiently for the play to continue. Then, he looked to his left, only to meet the gaze of another man, approximately his own age, also standing before another painting. The man was roughly six feet away from him. The attractive gentleman smiled and nodded a silent greeting. He edged his way toward Charles. "My name is Guy Archambeau," he said, pronouncing his first name as Gwee. "And you, my friend?" "Charles. Charles Towne-Landon." He cast a good-natured warning glance at Guy. "Don't start. I know how affectatious it sounds." Guy pursed his lips together. "Not at all, Charles. I like your name. There is a certain—dignity—about it." "Are you visiting from France?" Charles blurted out. "Non," Guy replied, his eyes glistening playfully. "I'm originally from Quebec, Canada. But I've lived in the States since I enrolled in medical school at Washington University School of Medicine. Now I live not far away from Tansy Hollow. In Green Valley." He shrugged. "But Charles, I'm sure you know of it, no?" Charles smiled. "Actually, I don't. I'm from Austin." "Ahhh. I see. Texas. Where everything is bigger. But my friend. Are they better? That’s the crucial question." "Well, for the sake of honesty, I'm not originally from Texas. I practice law there. Originally, I grew up in Virginia." "Still, Austin. You have traveled a long way to see a play, my friend." Charles felt an attraction for Guy. Who wouldn't? He was dark complected. His hair was black and shiny. His eyes mysterious and dark. And was there any sexier an accent than a French one? "Well, the play is actually a delightful happenstance. I'm in Tansy Hollow on a matter of personal business—which I won't bore you with." Guy edged even closer to Charles. Their elbows touched briefly. "I'm certain you could never bore me." Charles’ face reddened with pleased embarrassment—the same face that felt the fresh, minty breath that swept like a zephyr across his face. "So you are a fan of Sartre, too? I adore his work, both the plays he has written and the little bit of philosophy I've read. His ideas are more salient when they're dramatized on stage." Guy touched Charles' right hand with his left. Unclear to Charles was whether the touch was intentional or not. "My French heritage predisposes me to revere the man. He is something of a hero to me. But I suspect that many people of French descent feel the same way." Charles nodded. He swallowed hard. The arousal he felt became embarrassing. "It's easy to grasp why. The man is a genius." Then, Guy laid a hand on Charles' shoulder—a very intentional touch this time—just as the lights blinked the end of intermission. "Do you have plans for dinner tonight?" Charles chuckled. "I haven't given it a thought, really. Which is strange, since I'm already feeling very hungry." Then, Guy executed a body press, so that their hips touched. The connection lingered. "Let's meet in front of the theatre after the final curtain," he said. Charles could have sworn he felt a trail of fingers across the middle of his back. "We can make a plan then. Because I have visited Tansy Hollow several times, I know of a few restaurants, any one of which I'd love to treat you to. We can meet at dinner time and go from there." And with that, Guy and Charles returned to their seats, located nowhere near one another. 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. Social Media Links 
 Hitching one shoulder up for a second, Eric reached over and tapped the leather carry bag he’d stuffed all the files into. “I read about the killings here and when I heard about the offer of a job, that was what made me decide to move.” “The dead bodies interested you?” “Sort of.” Eric leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I know how nuts this is going to sound, but I’ve spent years studying serial killings and collecting data from all over the country. About five years ago, there was a series of murders near Cleveland. There were six killings and then they stopped. No one was caught, no reason for them to stop. No reason for them to happen that anyone could find. The thing is, these killings here are the exact same.” “So, you think it’s the same person?” “This is where we get to the crazy part. Every five to ten years there are a series of murders just like these in an area. I’ve found them all over North America dating back to the 1700s. Many of the clusters of murders took place in this part of the country. No one ever got caught.” Eric took a deep breath and sat watching Jay, obviously waiting for a reaction. Jay stared back at Eric, taking a few seconds for his words to sink in and register. “Someone is… copying?” He counted on his fingers. “That’s—” “A really long time. I know. No copies. These are the exact same. I don’t care how long you study something or how many details you collect, one person is going to do something like this differently, even in a very slight way, than someone else.” “There have to be differences.” Eric shook his head. “No, there aren’t. I can show you firsthand accounts of the conditions of the bodies and who they were. I have photos going back to before the Civil War. The body we saw today, it was in the same condition and maimed in the same way as the one I saw five years ago. And those were the same as ones a century ago.” Eric lifted the carry bag up and pulled out files, some they hadn’t gotten from the sheriff’s office. He spread them out like a deck of cards fanned across the table in front of Jay. “Check out the drawings and photos.” “But how could someone—” Jay stopped short and sucked in a breath. He moved the files, opening one after another, seeing evidence right in front of him. Sketches and handwritten accounts evolved to photos and typed words. He traced marks and open wounds on the victims’ bodies with the tip of his forefinger. “They all have the same sorts of gashes and cuts.” Eric nodded. “They do. There are no matches to predatory animals, and people sure as hell can’t do that sort of damage. I’ve tried matching the wounds to dozens of sorts of tools and weapons. Nothing fits, at least not anything that someone had access to now and several hundred years ago.” Jay tapped one of photographs. “I recognize where this one was taken.” He carefully picked it up, and turned it to read the back. “Late sixties. My father said this town was almost shut down by a series of murders. No one was caught and they stopped suddenly.” “There are a number of clusters that take place in the same area, separated by decades.” “The killer isn’t someone,” Jay said softly. “No.” Eric straightened in his chair. “I want to catch this thing, whatever it is. I want to stop it.” Dipping his chin at the collection of papers between them on the table he said, “I have more at home and on my computer. I just brought a few to show you. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy. I’ve never showed anyone these since I was never so directly involved in the investigation. I saw one of the bodies in Cleveland but wasn’t on the homicide team then.” Jay looked down at the files, then up at Eric. It was the truth, and he could see it in Eric’s face, hear it in his voice. For reasons not entirely clear to Jay, he believed and trusted this man, though he barely knew Eric. Nodding slowly, he took the plunge. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re right.” For the Long Run is available in eBook, paperback, audio, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.    Kashel Char has a new MM paranormal/sci-fantasy romance book out: Children of Anzulla: Draxton & Kellan. DRAXTON: Have you ever looked for something you know is there but can't find it? I was born to explore caves, and when it comes to finding the door to another reality, I become a tire-screeching, hyper-focused maniac. When I use my charm, I know, no one can refuse me, especially when I'm wearing my sexy jean shorts and wide-brimmed hat, even if I pair them with flip-flops. I will do anything to secure an extension to explore the Star Caves, nestled in the Cradle of Mankind, South Africa. With my grandfather's map in hand, I set out to barter for more time. The plan was simple. Entice, seduce, and bribe the man responsible for my future. He accepted the bribe, my priceless map, but as soon as he started showing up at the site, he refused my body, three times! KELLAN: How do you keep a bubble from popping when you want to catch it? Easy, don't try to catch it at all. I’m so in love with Draxton that I’d do just about anything to keep him around a little longer—even if it means shoving him into another guy’s arms! It’s my way of saying, I’m not trying to build a Draxton prison over here! But, how will I do that if I have to protect him while he’s going on all these missions to help my brother free Atlas, a dragon who was the only one who could take us back home? Recommended pre-read: New Beginnings Trilogy. Warnings: Themes of rescue missions, human oppression, invasion, slavery
Universal Buy Link | QueeRomance Ink | GoodreadsExcerpt  His eyes flicked to mine. “You know, Mr. Dubois, I call bullshit. You didn’t preserve it. You were hiding something.” He was correct. I hid my great-grandfather’s code that he had written with milk on the side of the map. I waved off the statement. “Look, the passages on the map turn left upon entry and pass in front of the chimney, but then it turns sharply down and to the right. We need more time because we’ve been scanning that wall repeatedly. We can’t go right. We need time. Here, Tobias and I found a fine line. I call it a line, but he insists it’s a crack. It’s unusually straight and long. No human could have scraped that with a piece of rock. It’s not rock carvings. Look, the door has to be there, somewhere in this exact spot, either up or down. You know the rock carvings look just like these.” I pointed to ladders, triangles, and squares. “I know the door is there. All I need is time, Professor. Once I find the door, all the credit goes to you and your faculty. You won’t have to spend a cent. All you have to do is say yes. Let National Geographic pull out, as they planned to today. I need space to work without any interference or distractions. Give me three months. That’s all I ask. If there’s no sign other than what we’ve found up until today, I will gladly pack up and call it quits. I’ll go home and start my research all over again. Because then I’m wrong. So wrong.” I tipped my head down to catch my breath and waited. Usually, people hated it if I stayed quiet for so long, it made them uncomfortable. My grandfather told me it’s not my fault if people got impatient and thought I was rude. The silence in the office finally doused my echoing words. When I looked back up, he sat patiently waiting for me with a smile. This man was really at the top of the food chain.  He pointed a finger at me. I wanted to sink to my knees for him. Not to beg, but to crawl closer and smell him like a dog. I bet he smelled like soap and tasted sweat. “I will give you three months, but I will be visiting and checking on your progress. No one else goes into those caves but you and Tobias. You work for me now. Without pay, of course. Anything new—be it the door, any bones, or anything, I don’t care if it’s just a hair. It belongs to the Wits, to my department.” A broad smile spread across my face. “Thank you.” I stood up weak in the knees, to shake his hand. “You just made the best deal of your career. I won’t disappoint you.” “Famous last words, Mr. Dubois.” He unfolded his new map, then rolled it back up and slipped it back into the protective tube. “Famous indeed, as you’ll see. You are about to become very famous.” I chuckled. “I was about to flirt with you and persuade you with my body.” I laughed, awaiting a reaction. “No need for that. We’ll see more of each other, Mr. Dubois.” “Please, I asked you earlier to call me Draxton.” “Only if you call me by my name, Kellan.” He looked like a Kellan. I liked the alliteration of the k’s. “Professor Kellan Kilroy, I look forward to working with you.” We shook hands longer than necessary. His long, slender fingers were surprisingly callused for a man who spends his days in an office. I shivered at the thought of those rough calluses scraping against my skin down my spine on their way to separate my butt cheeks. Gods, I have to stop gazing into his all-knowing eyes. I can’t…I can’t look away. He beamed at me knowingly, and we paused for a moment. In that instant, for the first time ever, my entire world went silent as I made eye contact. It didn’t make me nervous—no buzzing noises urging me to find silence—just a profound and unexpected comfort that settled deep within my bones. All the usual frantic chatter in my mind faded, replaced by a singular, unwavering focus as we shared the understanding of mutual attraction. “We’ll see each other again the day after tomorrow. Please tell Tobias I said hello.” He patted my arm, and my skin prickled where he had touched me. Swirls of heat detonated inside me. “I…I will, until then,” I said hurriedly, opening the office door, flustered and eager to resume my trek through the Johannesburg traffic—with a victorious grin.
Author Bio Kashel is a Canadian speculative fiction author, writing in the genres of science fiction, fantasy, and paranormal. Their writing explores who we are, where we come from, and where we are heading as a human race on Earth, by weaving unpredictable, twisted stories with a dash of humor, centered on gay characters. Author Website: https://kashelchar.com/ Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KashelCharAuthor Author Instagram: https://instagram.com/kashelchar Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21728488.Kashel_Char Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/51543/ Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/kashel-char/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/kashel-char
My snippet this week is from Quarry, book 2 of The Vampire Guard.  One car swerved wildly, and Declan was cut off, nearly running right into its bumper. The cacophony of horns and tires increased trifold. Blair was willing to bet most of the drivers never saw Declan weaving through the pandemonium since he moved so quickly. “Bastard,” Blair grumbled. Blair was a vampire, the same as Declan, and could see Declan’s actions though human or werewolf eyes weren’t able to. Too bad Blair couldn’t mimic Declan’s smooth moves. A car careened around a corner and right into Declan’s path. He jumped up, slid across the hood on his ass, and hit the pavement running without missing a beat. Blair hated him. Blair’s actions were less than smooth, and trying to keep up, even though he was the faster runner between them, made him feel horribly inept. His attempt at Declan’s move over and around the cars resulted in Blair’s face narrowly escaping an intimate meeting with the pavement. There are more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group! Quarry is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.  NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Hunter’s Hidden Camera Author: Anthony Auswat Publisher: Point Liberty Press Cover Artist: Vangega Release Date: April 1, 2026 Tense/POV: first person, present tense, single POV Genres: MM Psychological Thriller Tropes: Forbidden desire, taboo obsession, slow burn, secret crush, friends to lovers Themes: Coming of age, coming out, gay awakening, voyeurism, sibling rivalry Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 68 000 words/318 pages It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
A high school track athlete with a perverse hobby. A college heartthrob with a secret life. A dark gay m/m thriller that will stop at nothing until everyone gets exposed. Blurb Hunter seems to have it all: brains, biceps, and a bright future beyond the halls of his oppressive high school. He also has a private obsession that he knows is wrong: secretly recording his older brother, Nash, with a spy cam. It starts as a thrill and morphs into a power trip. But one day, the video footage reveals something so disturbing that it cracks Hunter’s life straight down the middle. Now he’s trapped in a nightmare where desire leaves fingerprints, loyalty pulls triggers, and the brother he thought he knew might be the most dangerous person in the room. To survive what he’s uncovered, Hunter turns to his best friend, Oscar, who may also be the man Hunter never knew he needed. When the family you’re born into puts you at risk, the family you choose may be the only thing that keeps you alive. Hunter’s Hidden Camera is an emotionally charged LGBTQ coming-of-age psychological thriller about hunger, shame, and the brutal cost of exposure. Smile for the camera. Excerpt M y brother has Big Dick Energy. He walks tall, as if he’s purposefully stretching out his body, a real-life Mr. Fantastic, his head held high but kind of cocked to the side, like he’s sizing up the world and impressed with what he sees. His arms swing almost carelessly, taking up more space around him than he needs. He’s got very visible swagger, his right foot landing on the ground a bit wider than his left one, landing a little crooked, as a way to make room for the almost always noticeable bulge in his pants. But despite all this, despite the way he carries himself, he doesn’t come across as arrogant. His confidence is quiet. You can see it when you catch a glimpse of him alone, like when he’s cooking salmon and vegetables for himself for lunch or when he’s shooting baskets in the backyard. You can also see it in the way he interacts with others: the ease with which he talks to people, familiar and strange, and the friendliness he brings to almost every encounter. I mean, I guess if you have a dick that big, life is all sunshine and blue skies and you want to be friendly to everybody. God, I hate him. It’s not that I have a micro-penis or anything. I think I’m proportional, or at least average, or at least almost average, but it’s hard to tell because most of the dicks I see are in porn and that’s not the real world. I’m eighteen, my brother’s twenty-one, and I have now resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never catch up. I’m thinking all this while digging in one of my brother’s dresser drawers, the one with all his underwear in it. He rotates between boxer briefs, trunks, and briefs, all different colors, some with patterns. He’s got designer brands like Calvin Klein and Diesel, but he’s also got some targeted at the youth market, from stores like Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister. There are also a few very basic Fruit of the Loom and Hanes thrown in there, probably left over from his high school days. Sometimes I wonder if his underwear works the same way a costume works for a superhero. Peter Parker is just Peter Parker, but when he puts on his Spider-Man outfit he is a man transformed. He is more confident, feels more powerful. Same goes for Iron Man, Ant-Man, most of them. Is my brother just a normal person, brimming with insecurities and worries, whose BDE only turns on when tighty-whities are wrapped around him? My brother (his name is Nash) is away at college, currently a senior majoring in business, and my parents are on vacation in Las Vegas, so I have the house to myself this morning. I grab one of Nash’s white Calvin Klein trunks. I’m jealous that he can rock these like a model. He wouldn’t look out of place next to Noah Centineo and Shawn Mendes, who broke the internet when their hot underwear ads were released. Again, it’s not that I’m out of shape or some kind of freak of nature. I’m actually pretty fit, pretty athletic, and pretty much the best track athlete at my school. It’s just that compared to Nash I feel like nothing. About the Author Anthony Auswat is the author of dark, demented, and deeply gay thrillers, including The Teacher Inside Me and Hunter's Hidden Camera, which were viral sensations online before they were officially published. He draws from personal experience and transforms it into genre storytelling. He lives in California, where he keeps a low profile and a high body count. Social Media Links 
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