Bennu Bright has a new MM alt-history fantasy out (bi/pan, intersex, poly), Infinity 8 book one: The Demon Lord of California. And there's a giveaway. A Slow Burn Meet Cute! Baker. Wizard. God of Space and Time. Cupcake enthusiast. How long will it take to fan the flames and enrage this gentle phoenix? Start counting. What's a wounded and lonely little cinnamon roll to do? Stripped of his psychic powers, Calico Winghorse flees his homeworld and travels to 19th century Earth via his inter-dimensional portal. As a mixed-blood phoenix trapped in human form, he opens a bakery in the San Francisco Bay Area and quietly nurses his wounds. But the unique method of his arrival draws the unwanted attention of Infinity Corporation. Representing this angelic-run company is Agustin Chavez de la Cruz, the Demon Lord of California. Even though Agustin is IC's heir, he finds himself demoted from his duties to concentrate on his new assignment: take absolute control of Calico's portal. But Calico refuses to sell at any price. He is also very busy ensuring that the good people of the city are getting their fill of baked goods. Before Agustin can formulate a more gracious avenue of acquiring the gateway, the demanding head of IC interferes, further complicating matters. So as negotiations stumble along, Calico and Agustin come to realize they both want more than a stuffy business arrangement. However, due to Calico's injuries, the portal remains vulnerable to the darker forces that want it at any cost. Agustin will have to push both his angelic heritage, as well as his own psychic powers to the very limits to heal this sweet baker, who is also the portal world's God of Space and Time. The Demon Lord of California is the first book of an LGBTQ+ paranormal-fantasy series. You won't want to miss a first love found, hidden worlds, and a recovering workaholic grasping at his second chance. All centered around the control of an otherworldly portal. So curl up with your favorite beverage, and hang out with Cal and Gus for a while. You'll be happy you did! Warnings: Mature readers. Robbery and assault. Mentioned sexual harassment/assault. Mental abuse from a parent. Fire, burning, burning alive. Possibly implied prostitution, and suicide (by fire). Universal Buy LinkLiminal Fiction | QueerRomance Ink | Goodreads Giveaway Bennu is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47268/? Excerpt “Please,” Calico called out, hands waving at chest-level. “Please, wait.” The raucous noise of the motorcar’s engine ceased. The gentleman stepped down from the vehicle. “You wished to speak to me? Is it about the order? I can reduce the amount of—” “Oh, no, no,” Calico hurried to reassure. “My brothers and I are most capable, and we will have no difficulty filling and delivering your baked goods. On time. I…” He could do this. He had to do this. His loneliness would drive him mad before the curse could ever eat him into a permanent demise. Perhaps it would be easier if they did not have the driver as an audience. Calico extended a hand to show his customer the way to the small strip of greenery next to the bakery. He could not be sure exactly what his intentions would entail, by waylaying a most important customer in this manner. It was indecent. Immoral. But Calico felt if he did not, he would lose something, or a moment, that was so dire, he would die. He would die anyway… Calico bit his lip. It was well and good his gentleman customer seemed to be interested in his most unusual inquiry. So that provided additional courage. Which came as a surprise. In the heart of this little park next door to the bakery, his customer artfully arranged himself on the bench beneath the gaslight pole. Sitting straight and tall. Sophistication and elegance radiating just as strongly as the furnace of his elemental aura. The haziness cast from the street lamp created a most wonderful island against the coming twilight. It strangely made this rendezvous cozier. That alone bolstered Calico’s courage another notch. When the gentleman looked up at him expectedly with those mismatched eyes, Calico felt mesmerized. Say something, he demanded of himself. Something witty and clever, so he will think me just as gentlemanly and important. His customer appeared to be fighting the smile on his lips before clearing his throat. He turned his head—just for a second, before facing him again, expression polite. Say something, Calico pushed himself. He is waiting. He will think me daft and even more unsound than I already am. Alright then. Here I go. “We are both fire elementals.” The clumsy inquiry had Calico’s cheeks heating in embarrassment. He bent his head at his failure. “One moment,” the gentleman said. He collected a small item anchored into his top hat and held it up. A blue gem embedded into a silver clip glowed, and the light circled around them like a curtain. Returning the jewel to its place on that magnificent hat, this man languidly leaned against the backrest and angled himself more in his direction. Calico felt encouraged to pursue a friendly connection, but this intriguing magic had to be investigated. “What was that?” “A spell my company uses. We call it the Curtain. It keeps our dealings private and unseen from the mundanes—ah, the general non-magical populations, I mean. Usually the humans.” “That is most ingenious magic,” he exclaimed, leaning in. “I wonder how it compares to my Mirror Bubble?” There was that smile again, most gentle, and prompting. “You wished to speak of magic? Or something more?” “Ah, my apologies. Not magic. Will you show it to me?” Calico asked, knowing himself too eager. He tried not to wring his hands and appear desperate. His customer’s brows rose high, and Calico knew it was in utter surprise, and perhaps curiosity. “Show you… what?” The question was somewhat wary with a touch of amusement. “Your elemental flame. You see, I too, am—er was once gifted with the flame. I am a phoenix, you see.” The man blinked. “A phoenix without a flame?” Calico felt himself turn pink, and put a sheepish hand against the back of his head. “It is a most embarrassing admission,” he rushed. “I did not plan on being so forward. I apol—” There was a quiet whoosh. Another small circle of light rose, and Calico sensed the heat instantly. There, dancing calmly inches above the gentleman’s gloved palm, was a tear-shaped flame. Flickering in shades of orange, reds, and yellows and blues. And… and yes. White. He sucked in a breath and suddenly couldn’t breathe. It had been so long since he’d seen such a flame. Curling, writhing in all its glory. Since he was cut off from his ability, Maars did not use his out of sympathy. At least in a sensory view. Calico swallowed the hitch in his breath. How could this gentleman carry so many colors within? Was he that powerful? “You’re shaking, Mr. Scrivens.” The flame disappeared, and there was a steadying hand at his shoulder. “Are you well? Perhaps you should sit down.” Calico touched that hand, as if to anchor it in place. “Yes, yes, I should.” The wooden bench was chilly against his rump. “It-it is quite cold this evening. May I see it again?” The request was granted. Calico just stared at the dancing shapes. Wishing. Forever longing. A few seconds passed before the gentleman spoke. “How long has it been since you were unable to create?” Create. It was an elemental term Calico had heard bandied about as he eavesdropped upon conversations among the local wizard shops. The question sent warm tingles and shivers of fire down his spine.< Staring at the flame so snug and content curling about the gentleman’s gloved fingertips, Calico suddenly found himself saying, “Sixteen months, two days, seventeen hours and 26 and a half seconds.” The gentleman cocked his head to the side. He lowered his hand, and the summoned fire faded. “That’s quite precise.” Indeed! He should not be able to access any of his psychic powers. “I am the God of Space and Time,” Calico said offhandedly. There was a pause that almost became awkward. “Well, yes. About that. Mr. Scrivens, while we are here, alone, I’d like to take the opportunity to discuss your delivery further.” “Oh, yes,” Calico replied with renewed energy. “What is it? Would you like to add my famous cupcakes to the order? It is no trouble.” “N-no. That’s not it. Well, the baked goods are for a recruitment campaign.” “Recruitment?” “Yes. My company has need of your skills.” Calico paused before he made a silly fish out of himself. As much as his mind was centered upon his magic, what if this man merely wanted an extra baker on his payroll, and not a wizard? He had to allow the man to formally extend the offer. Author Bio Hi! I'm Bennu Bright. Fantasy and paranormal tales have always felt like home. And I’ve always adored getting into the gritty details of a character’s goals and relationships. With my newfound zest for the craft of writing, my work has joined the ranks of romance and the romantic. Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, I spend my days nose to the keyboard, or attempting to revive an ancient passion for drawing. Author Website: https://www.bennubright.com Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/AForgeOfPhoenix Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/BennuBright Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bennubright/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/bennubright Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/bennu-bright/ Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/bennu-bright/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Bennu-Bright/e/B0B763J8Z2 “Wait, Tyler, what’s that?” Linden reached over and put one hand on Tyler’s arm. For an instant he was distracted by the firm swell of his bicep. The truck stopped, but Tyler didn’t change gears. “What’s what?” “Look. Second floor, the end room—the drapes are open. All the others are closed. The snow at the back of the building isn’t as smooth as the front.” Tyler leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel, and stared. “I went through with the work crews. We drained all the water from the pipes so they wouldn’t freeze when the heat and power were shut down. Then I locked up.” “Did you close all the drapes?” Tyler nodded. “Yes.” He turned to look directly at Linden. “The work crews left two days ago. I haven’t been there since.” Read other great snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Bait is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited. This week the eBook is only $2.99!
Christie Meierz has a new MM sci-fi romance out: Rembrandt's Station. And there's a giveaway! Stationmaster and exiled aristocrat Albert St. John Rembrandt—Bertie to his friends—is in love with a man he's always believed he can't have, and finding out the hard way that some Tolari are as poisonous as their planet is only the beginning of his troubles. A ship has gone missing. His station is in crisis. Bertie must somehow recover his health and manage the disaster while trying to decide whether to accept genetic modification in order to be with the man he loves. And no Rembrandt has ever taken a gen mod. Warnings: mention of past off-screen rape of a character who doesn't appear in the book Universal Buy LinkGiveaway Christie is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this blog tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47269/? Excerpt Bertie was dying. The Monral bent over him. “My love, I beg you—” “Must… must stay human… the Duke…” The Monral slammed his other hand onto the treatment bed and looked up at the apothecary, knowing his face betrayed the pain of his next words. “You cannot give it to him unwilling.” She nodded, her own face betraying nothing. Grimly, he poured more of his own strength through his fingers into Bertie, who rallied a little, bringing the pain roaring back. Pain itself could kill a human. The path to keeping Bertie alive lay along a cliff’s edge. Any mistake would plunge him into the dark. The apothecary pointed her chin at his hand. “We will do all we can for him, but high one, you must pace yourself.” He shook his head and turned back to Bertie, willing him to remain in the light. Stay alive. Stay alive! Stubborn human! Why? Why did he risk losing his own life to remain unmodified, to hold himself apart from a belonging he clearly desired? Poisoned, sickened, in extreme pain—Bertie could not be thinking clearly. Did that give the apothecaries an excuse to disregard his oft-stated opinion about the blessing? Or—he could make Bertie want the blessing. The Monral lowered his head. No. That, Bertie would never forgive. When he realized he had been manipulated—and he would—he would hate them all. At least he would be alive to hate them. The Monral wiped at stinging eyes. He could not betray Bertie now, though the consequences were unthinkable. He touched his forehead to Bertie’s cheek, let his senses wrap around his lover’s presence. Pain. Everywhere, pain. It crescendoed. Bertie cried out, and the Monral drew a harsh, gasping breath. It was too much, and he broke the contact to straighten. A chair touched the back of his legs; he dropped heavily onto it. Bertie had to live. He had to. If he would not take the blessing, then the Monral would do what he could do, even give every last bit of his own strength to save him. He could live with prolonged exhaustion. He was unsure if he could live without Bertie. Not anymore. Bertie writhed. “I don’t want to die alone,” he rasped. “I don’t—” The last word broke off into another scream. The Monral’s vision glazed. “You are not alone, my love,” he said, when the scream subsided into choking sobs. “And you will not die. Not while I am here.” Bertie sighed, and his emotional landscape fell into a disorganized chaos of shallow unconsciousness. His body spasmed and twitched. Around him, the apothecaries, nurses, and aides moved rapidly about their varied tasks, but even unconscious, the pain hardly dulled, radiating from Bertie like heat from a fire. The Monral sagged in the chair, exhaustion fogging his thoughts. He had poured almost everything he had into Bertie. It was still not enough. “You will not die while I am here,” he repeated, and ignored caution to pull what he still could through his ruling bond, pushing that through his fingers. He tried to find more. There was nothing left. He would have to wait for the energy available to him through his ruling bond to replenish itself, but he was out of time. Bertie was out of time. Already his glow began to dim again. Tears welled up and spilled down the Monral’s cheeks. He was going to lose him. He was going to lose Bertie. No. He gathered his remaining strength. If giving it left him unfit to rule, so be it, so long as it kept Bertie alive. If it was not enough-- He took a breath, facing the reality before him. If it was not enough, then Albert St. John Rembrandt, the Duke of New Norfolk’s unwanted youngest son, would walk into the dark surrounded by the love of Monralar. “I am yours, my love,” the Monral whispered. “I will always be yours.” He took a deep breath, gathering himself. A feeling of being watched stole over him, and with it, a sense of Parania’s beloved. He paused. Laura was awake and listening, then. Or she was traveling about while her body slept. Why was she here? Was it simply to offer comfort when Bertie—if Bertie—when—his thoughts stuttered to a halt. More tears spilled. Then something touched the very core of his heart and soul, refreshing and replenishing, and suddenly he was alert. Energy poured in from his ruling bond as if he had yet given nothing at all. Startled hope flooded him. He drew another deep breath and directed the energy into Bertie. The dimming stopped. From across the stronghold, he felt the smile on Laura’s face. As dawn approached, the mood in the apothecaries’ quarters lightened with the sky. Even to the Monral’s untrained eye, as bad as Bertie looked, his color was better, pale as a summer cloud but no longer grey. Much of the pain had subsided, to the relief of everyone in the room, and though his breathing was shallow, it had settled into an even pattern. The Monral caught the head apothecary’s eye and lifted an eyebrow. She nodded. “He is out of immediate danger,” she said. “We will do all we can to repair the damage to his body, high one, but it is extensive, and he will require many tens of days to fully recover. He could not have survived without the strength you lent him.” Its work done, his connection to the beloved of Parania guttered like a candle flame and went out, leaving his chest aching but his body thrumming with energy. Mother of All, he thought. What power Laura had. And how much longer could her Paran hide the fact of it from those who would use or destroy her? The Monral turned back to Bertie, whose eyes had slitted open. The whites were entirely stained red with blood. “Good morning,” he told him gently, in English. Bertie managed a faint smile and said, in a hoarse whisper, “You sure know how to show a man a good time.” Author Bio Award-winning author Christie Meierz writes space opera and science fiction romance set on a world of empaths at the edge of a dystopic human empire. Her published works include her PRISM award-winning debut novel, The Marann, three more novels set in Tolari space, and several short stories. She is a member of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association (SFWA), spent 10 years raising sheep in Broome County, New York, and has been declared capable of learning Yup’ik. Christie now lives in Rochester, NY, where she and her mathematician husband serve as full-time staff to two parlor panthers known to humans as Banichi the Assassin and Miss Myrtle the Hurricane Cat. (Their true names remain a mystery). When she’s not writing, she writes about writing on her blog, her personal Facebook page, where she welcomes comments and friend requests, and her Facebook Author Page. Author Website: http://christiemeierz.com Author Facebook (Personal): http://facebook.com/christie.meierz Author Facebook (Author Page): http://facebook.com/tolarispace Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChristieMeierz Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6550983.Christie_Meierz Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/29733/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Christie-Meierz/e/B009N3UB22/ 🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️eBook Sale! Only $2.99 or read in KU!🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️ Trapped in a blizzard. Hunted by a killer! Tyler McCall made a mistake that cost him his job, his freedom and everything he’d worked for. Now he’s living in the Black Hills of Wyoming, working two jobs and doing his best to not dwell on what he’s lost. Linden Bourne is a no-nonsense FBI agent. His hunt for a killer takes him to Wyoming, he has questions for Tyler. Linden quickly realizes Tyler isn’t a suspect, but the next likely victim. When he and Tyler they become trapped by a blizzard in an empty inn near Devils Tower they discover they’re not alone. The killer has targeted Tyler and won’t let a little detail like an unexpected visit by the FBI stop what they’ve planned to do. Linden is completely out of his element, but he’s sworn to protect and that’s exactly what he plans to do: protect Tyler at all costs. This week my Throwback Thursday is from Shifting Chaos, book 4 of The Sleepless City. This series is cowritten with Anne Barwell. “This is a sucky plan,” Forge said as he climbed down from the driver’s seat of the SUV Tsekani had provided. He hadn’t asked too many questions about the vehicle, other than to find out if it had a full tank of gas and to get assurance it wasn’t hot. He opened the rear gate and grabbed a backpack off the floor, shrugging it on. “It’s the only plan we have right now,” Declan reminded him. “Let’s get this over with.” He turned to Blair. Both of them were dressed, like Forge and Lucas, in all black. Lucas punched Forge’s shoulder lightly. “It’s been a while since we’ve broken into a place.” “We’ve never broken into a place, Lucas. Sometimes we haven’t broadcast we were there, but never out-and-out breaking and entering,” Forge pointed out. They were a few blocks from their target. Lucas carried a small cooler. Everything Blair and Declan needed was stored in their pockets, other than a pint bottle of cheap vodka Blair held. “Are you clear on what to do?” Declan asked Blair, who held up the vodka, grinned, and nodded. “Yep,” Blair said. “Step one. Drunken and lost man. Distract the guard and lift his keycard.” “You do know even though those guys aren’t real cops, they have guns, right? Don’t think a gun can’t hurt you,” Forge put one hand on Blair’s shoulder and massaged gently for a few seconds. “I know,” Blair said softly. “I’ll meet you in,” Declan glanced at his watch then pulled his sleeve down to cover it. “Five minutes. Don’t do a thing until I tell you to.” He held up one finger, then pointed to Forge and Lucas. Blair nodded and looked at Forge. “You two be careful. Take care of each other.” Declan took Lucas’s hand and squeezed. “We always do,” Lucas assured him. “The big guy here and I might not have a done a lot of breaking and entering, but we’ve done plenty of the covert stuff.” “See you in a bit,” Declan said. He let go of Lucas and sprinted down the street. Forge moved his hand and curled his fingers around Blair’s neck. “Hey. You do everything Declan tells you to and you’ll be fine.” “I’m not so worried about me,” Blair said. “I do listen. You, on the other hand—” “Will also be fine,” Forge leaned in and kissed Blair’s forehead. “The fact I’m not still in Argentina is a testament to that.” Shifting Chaos is available in eBook, paperback and
through Kindle Unlimited. My teaser this week is from my scifi MM romance Strays! Kyle wasn’t even sure what his crime was. No food, no money, and no way of getting help or supplies, Kyle was cut off from everything he’d ever known. He had no one, not even marginally, and was so afraid he was numb. He tried to shove farther back along the wall of his hideout, but there was barely enough room for a six-foot-four guy as it was. When he heard footsteps, Kyle brushed his bangs away from his face, held his breath, tried to be still and blend into the shadows. The guy walking down the street took Kyle’s breath away. In another time he’d have hoped this man was into other guys. Now he simply wanted to stay out of his line of sight. He wore drab green and gray clothing meant to blend in. Even his jeans were dark gray. He had short-cropped, dark blond hair, a bit of a five o’clock shadow, and intense green eyes. Kyle took in every detail from the broad, muscled shoulders to legs almost as long as Kyle’s. He was probably a few inches shorter than Kyle. Only part of the pounding of his heart was from fear of discovery. He couldn’t get caught, he couldn’t. The man looked around. He squinted up into the twilight sky and twisted on his heels, first left, then right. The man’s movements were casual, yet, Kyle couldn’t shake the feeling he was who this man was looking for. Even though he didn’t wear the uniform of government agents, he carried himself like one and acted like one. Kyle had seen enough of those people at the university and in the research facility where he’d worked to recognize them even without their uniforms. A cramp shot through his leg and he hissed in a breath, shifting, then wincing. The man turned and looked right at Kyle’s hiding place. Taking a few steps closer, the man leaned down, cocked his head to one side, and stood straight again. The backpack he carried was dropped from his shoulder and gripped loosely in one hand. Putting hands on hips, backpack dangling from his crooked fingers, he ordered, “Out, now.” Not knowing what to do, Kyle stood on shaky legs, but didn’t move away from his hiding spot. The man moved closer, reaching out, and brushed his fingers against the blood stain on Kyle’s jacket. “You’re hurt.” He reached for Kyle’s good arm. “Come with me.” Skirting carefully around him, Kyle saw a pistol sticking out of the man’s waistband. Using his good arm, he darted in and made a grab for it. When the guy twisted away, Kyle kicked at his legs, grabbed the backpack, and took off. “Crap. Kid, don’t run!” the man yelled. “Why do they always run?” The man had shouted loud enough that Kyle heard him despite running away. Kyle didn’t look back. He gripped the stolen pack—there had to be something useful or sellable in it—and ran. Pulling air into his nose and blowing it out his mouth in huge puffs that turned frosty in front of him, Kyle used the panic from the sound of footsteps closing in behind him to create more speed. Swinging wide around a corner, he splashed through semi-frozen puddles, soaking his boots and socks, and headed in a direction he hoped would take him to somewhere deserted and with hiding places. Strays is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.
Happy New Year Snippetters! To start the year off I have a snippet from one of my favorite books, Electric Candle (book 2 of The Sleepless City). The series was cowritten with Anne Barwell. Declan laughed, and again, his voice was full of warmth and affection, the sadness gone. “It’s late, and I need my rest.” “How do I find this guy? Boggslake isn’t a huge city, but there are still a fair number of people in it.” That’s when Forge had another, more disturbing thought. “What if it’s not a he?” he blurted into the phone. “Relax. I’ve never heard of a vampire having to go against his or her sexual nature when their soulmate was involved. Of course, he’s a he. You’re a detective. Detect.” Forge sighed when a text came through, this one from the station. “I’ve got to go. Apparently, there is a dead body, again. Soulmate or no, I have a job to do.” Declan laughed. “Isn’t that what the Homicide Department deals with? The dead? Go be a master detective and bring the bad guys to justice. I anxiously await the headlines.” There was a pause then, “Talk to me when you can. I miss you and be careful,” Declan said softly before he disconnected. Forge read the address and responded that he had to get his car and would arrive shortly. He jogged to where his vehicle was parked and was on his way in a few minutes. His destination was a good ten minutes’ drive to an area closer to the lakeshore. Forge knew the way without having to think about it, which was good since his mind was churning over other things. Read other snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Electric Candle is available in eBook, paperback and through
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