 At the end of an interminable day and largely sleepless night, Mal got up at the crack of dawn and set off for Gatlinburg in his pickup. He had some trouble finding the studio, and by the time he arrived, the photo shoot had begun. Building security let him in, and he stood against the wall, watching. He caught Colt’s eye a few times but got no soft smile or knowing glance in return. On the plus side, Mal didn’t get any vibes of hostility either. Finally the photographer called a break, and everyone wandered off for bathroom and beverage breaks. Mal pulled in a deep breath, stuck his shaking hands in his pockets, and approached Colt, playing over a million things in his head to say. “I’m sorry,” Mal blurted out. Colt looked away for a second, then focused on Mal. “I know. I didn’t mean to leave in the middle of the night, but I needed to be somewhere else for a few days.” He chuckled. “I think Phillipe is getting tired of me.” “Come home, please,” Mal pleaded. “We’ll work this out, and I am more than capable of fighting the board on this.” “I don’t know, maybe—” “Have dinner with me, and we’ll talk about it.” Colt nodded and even smiled a bit. “That’s fair. I’d like that—a lot, actually.” They were interrupted by a woman approaching with a robe. She handed it to Colt. Mal immediately picked up on the fact her actions made Colt uncomfortable. “I’m not sure about this,” Colt mumbled to the woman. He was staring at the floor. “Not sure about what?” Mal asked. The woman gave him an irritated look but explained, “The magazine is doing a spread with athletes, execs, and models posing nude.” Mal studied Colt, whose feelings were obvious. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not part of the deal. I don’t know who requested this, but it wasn’t me, and I never approved it.” “I’m sorry, sir, who are you?” The woman tried to step between Colt and Mal, but Mal wasn’t having it. He squared his shoulders, straightened his spine, and moved so he was beside Colt. “I’m the guy who owns the distillery that is paying for these photographs.” He turned to Colt and asked, “Do you want to do this?” Colt shook his head. Mal leveled a glare at the woman. “We’re done here.” “But the magazine…. There’s a contract and—” Mal snorted. “Trust me, there isn’t a contract I can’t break, nor do I believe my business manager would have signed a contract if that term had been explicit.” He fished his wallet out and handed the woman one of his business cards. “Call that number. It’s my private office line. Give me the dollar amount that’s owed, and you’ll have a check within the week. He doesn’t want to be photographed nude, and he won’t be. Is there anything else he needs to be here for?” The woman shook her head. “We completed all the other photographs needed.” Mal turned to Colt. “Where’s your stuff?” Colt motioned to the hallway. “The dressing rooms are down there.” He led the way out of the studio and to a door on the opposite side of the hall. “I’ll just be a minute.” Mal leaned against the wall while Colt slipped through the door. He was back out a minute later with a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Thank you,” Colt said softly. “You were going to go through with that even though you didn’t want to be photographed naked?” Colt nodded, and Mal sputtered, “Colt, why?” Colt shrugged. “It’s my job.” “No. Doing something you’re obviously very uncomfortable with is not your job.” Colt reached out and took Mal’s hand for a minute. “Really, thank you. I’ve been sick over doing that part.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at himself. “I’m too skinny, anyway.” “No, you’re not. But I’ll admit I want to be the only one who gets to see you naked. You’ll have dinner with me? We can talk about that document? No contract I can’t break; remember that.”  Whiskey and Moonshine is available in eBook, audio, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.      🥃🥃🥃🥃eBook Sale! 2.99 or read in KU!🥃🥃🥃🥃 Drunk on love. French edition: https://books2read.com/u/mqeWrO Spanish edition: https://books2read.com/u/bPLWJd https://www.elizabeth-noble.com/ Sale price good on English edition only. Now in Audio! Like a well-aged whiskey, master distiller and old-money entrepreneur Malone Kensington is elegant and refined. Unfortunately he’s also a perfectionist who is more dedicated to the success of his generations-old company than his own love life. That company needs a public spokesman. What Colton Hale lacks in sophistication, he more than makes up for with the charisma that’s allowed him to survive on the street from a young age and charm his way into the lucrative—if overwhelming—public position at the Kensington Distillery. When Mal takes Colt under his wing, hoping to polish off his rough edges, opposites attract and a passionate romance blossoms despite the differences in age and background. But can it survive a Kensington Board of Directors who believe Colt is nothing but a gold digger and a kidnapper determined to profit from the love of Mal’s life—dead or alive?      Riece walked beside Mason and glanced sideways at him. “You’re not just blowing off steam, are you?” “Oh hell no.” “You’re supposed to enforce the law,” Riece said softly. “Yeah. Which is why I want to avoid killing anyone. I’m afraid they don’t have the same concerns. They’re going to try to kill us, Riece, and if it comes down to them or us—” Mason stopped and drew a deep breath. “—then I vote us.” “You have a plan,” Riece said. When Mason glanced at him and arched an eyebrow, Riece continued. “I know you. That expression you’re wearing—it’s the same determined one you’d have right before an exam.” Mason let go of Riece’s hand and put his arm around his shoulders, chuckling. “We get to safety, and then I return with backup and these assholes are caught.” “Won’t they get farther away?” “You took pictures; we can both give descriptions. I’ve got a plate number from at least one vehicle, and we know a name. They’ll be caught,” Mason said. “Most importantly they’ll think we won’t be able to catch them.” “How does that help?” Mason shrugged. “They won’t hide well. I think they’ve been getting away with this for a while. We’re not their first hunt. They’ll think we won’t be able to track them down.” “Do you think they’re the reason people disappear around here?” Riece asked. “They are very confident they’ll kill us.” He glanced behind them again. “Yeah.” Mason stopped and turned to face Riece. “I do. It hit me when they were talking. I was thinking the pit we fell into was for animals, but it was in such an odd spot. More of a place people would go for the scenery. Not where a bear or buck would go for food or shelter or water. I’m sort of hoping they’re overconfident. That’s when they’ll slip up, make a mistake. We have to make sure we don’t make a mistake.” “They talked about coming here for a hunt,” Riece added. Gone Away is available in eBook, paperback and through Kobo Plus.     SERIES TOUR THE CHRISTOPHER BOOKS by Stephen G Hardy Follow Christopher as he explores various types of relationships and the impact he has on the lives of others. The books need to be read in order. Overall Heat Rating for the series: 1 flame 
BOOK DETAILS BOOK 1 
Book Title: Search for Complete Cover Artist: Ryan Mulford Length: 80 127 words /335 pages Release Date: June 4, 2023 Genres: Contemporary LGBTQ+ Fiction with speculative elements. Tropes: Friends to Platonic lovers Themes: Interpersonal relationships, Conversations as Catalyst for Change It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Blurb “Why do I get the feeling that Christopher is the type of man that would make the perfect husband for any woman and, at the same time, the perfect wife for any man?” Laura says shortly after Christopher begins his new job at the TV station. Laura’s statement would turn out to hold more truth than she could imagine. No one who meets Christopher, especially not Laura, as well as David, a gay man he meets at a party, understands what it is about him that draws them to him. They also don’t realize that Christopher is searching for something, a search complicated by their desires for him. BOOK 2 
Book Title: The Price of Happiness Length: 84 447words/330 pages Release Date: November 24, 2023 Genres: LGBTQ+ Contemporary Literary Fiction Tropes: Love and loss Themes: Parenthood, interpersonal relationships, finding oneself. It is not a standalone story and end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Blurb As Search for Complete left off, the birth of his twins had just completed Christopher. However, though he has what he had searched so long for, he now must deal with the associated costs, namely the unraveling of his relationship with Laura, the mother of his twins. The birth of the twins should have brought Laura joy, yet, instead, she finds herself on an intense emotional rollercoaster. Laura resents Christopher's happiness—resents that he is a better mother than she is. But most of all, Laura resents that the twins are Christopher's spitting image—nowhere does she see herself in them. Christopher fears his happiness in becoming a father has become Laura’s undoing. As he tries to help her adjust to the reality of their situation, Laura struggles to find herself in the tangled mess of their relationship. In The Price of Happiness, Stephen Hardy has created a profound and moving novel on the themes of parenthood, identity, love and loss—and the cost of getting what we want. BOOK 3 
Book Title: When the Sun and Moon Touch Length: 87 639 words/353 Pages Release Date: March 29, 2024 Genres: LGBTQ+ Contemporary Literary Fiction Tropes: M2M relationships Themes: Finding oneself, forgiveness, love The stories need to be read in order. This book does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Blurb Christopher has settled into life as a single father to his twins, Loren and Christine. Content with his life, he is contemplating the imminent return of their mother Laura, who has been traveling through Europe for nearly a year, when he meets Benjamin, a direct descendant of the sun. Suddenly, his contentment is upended as he tries to understand the reason for their meeting. Despite what Benjamin says, that they are meant to be together, Christopher initially tries to hold Benjamin at arm's length, believing that he is only to be for Benjamin what Joseph was to him—a friend and mentor. Excerpt from Book 1 I began to question accepting Laura’s invitation when I heard the noise coming from the backyard as we approached the house. I disliked crowds, and it sounded like an immense crowd was on the other side of the gate. People were everywhere—seated on lounge chairs scattered around the patio or at the rectangular dining table or milling about in various groups—talking loudly over the blaring music. Laura’s voice broke through the noise. “I don’t see Peter anywhere. He might be inside. Shall we find him?” “By all means. I would feel uncomfortable attending his party without meeting him.” I followed Laura into the house. As we passed through the living room, my eyes fell on a few framed photos of a handsome couple on the wall. In the kitchen, a solitary male figure was removing a tray of croissants from the oven. “Hello, Peter.” As he turned around, I recognized Peter as one of the men in the photos. Tall and slender, with dark hair and a mustache waxed into handlebars, there was a dapperness to him that I found pleasing. “Hey, Laura. Lovely to see you!” After setting the hot tray down, Peter hugged her. “Peter, I want you to meet Christopher. He just moved here from Seattle and works with me at the station.” “How do you do, Peter?“ Having grown used to the reaction my presence caused, I smiled patiently as Peter, unable to speak right away, shook my offered hand. “I hope you do not mind my crashing your party. Laura assured me that you would not object to her bringing me.” “No, of course, I don’t mind.” The words tumbled out one on top of the other. “Is there anything we can do to assist you?” “No, I have it all under control, thanks. Please help yourself to the food and drinks out on the patio.” “We will. Thanks,” Laura said, taking my arm and steering me back through the living room. “Peter is very nice,” I commented as we stepped through the doors and headed towards the drinks table. “Can I make you something?” “A mimosa, thanks. Yes, Peter’s a sweetie.” We stood sipping our drinks as I scanned the crowd of mostly men, a mix of young and old, before Laura took me around, introducing me to the people she knew. I instinctively searched their eyes for the essence of another while ignoring Laura’s scrutinizing gaze. Laura needed to use the bathroom, so she left me standing under the large Ficus tree where we had sought shade from the sun. Within minutes of her departure, I was surrounded by a large group of people vying for my attention. Carrying on multiple conversations was challenging, but I did my best to make each person feel they had my full attention. He caught my attention on the periphery of my vision: tall and well-built, resembling the small statue of the god Mars that sat on the table in Joseph’s shop. Our eyes met, and I felt my heart skip a beat, seeing something flash in his eyes. Smiling hopefully, I extended my hand to him. “Hello, my name is Christopher Dunn.” As he shook my hand, I took the opportunity to search his golden-brown eyes. My initial hope turned to disappointment, for while something was there, it was not another’s essence. Though disappointed, I was intrigued. “Davidmartelli.” He slurred the two names into one in his haste to get the words out. As I gazed into his eyes, the feeling of a purpose to our meeting appeared—first Laura and now David. “It is a pleasure to meet you, David Martelli,” I said, saying his name distinctly. David blushed attractively, causing a twinge in my heart. “Can I get you a drink?” He looked so crestfallen when I held up my cup that I was tempted to down my drink and ask him for another. “Oh, you have one.” “I do, but I appreciate you asking.” I gave him a smile to back up my words. It was apparent that David was struggling to find something to say, the frustration evident in his handsome features. I wanted to get him away from the people surrounding us and talk to him alone, but I did not see how I could do so without offending everyone else. Conscious of the eyes watching us, David blushed again and backed away. For some reason, I knew that this behavior was out of character for him. Watching him walk away, I hoped we would meet again as I wanted to discover what I saw in his eyes. About the Author Stephen Hardy was born in the San Francisco Bay Area but grew up in the Pacific Northwest. His career as a fashion designer took him back to San Francisco before he headed to New York City, where he met his husband of twenty years. Tiring of the hectic pace of the fashion industry, Stephen gave up his career to become a stay-at-home dad for his and his husband’s two adopted sons and a quiet life in Connecticut. Now residing in Phoenix, Arizona, and with the kids grown, Stephen returned to university, where he rediscovered his love for writing. His focus is on contemporary fiction, examining social issues regarding gender, sexuality, and relationships. Search for Complete is his first novel. Author Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram 
  “Gentlemen, I’ll dive right in,” Porter began. He was usually succinct, but he’d normally at least say hello. “We have a situation that has the potential for global impact and could become an E.L.E.” “E.L.E.?” Declan asked. He glanced to the others. Jonas was frowning and it was difficult to tell if he’d recognized the acronym. Lucas’s sentiments came through loud and clear even without the bond they shared that allowed Declan to experience his emotions to some degree. Color dropped from Lucas’s face, and he sucked in a breath, backing up and sitting abruptly in a chair. Declan asked, “I’ve heard the term but I’m not—” “Extinction Level Event,” Lucas cut in. Find more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group!  Endosymbiont is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.
RECENT RELEASE 
Book Title: An Odyssey of Shadows Author, Cover Artist, and Publisher: Dion Marc Release Date: April 1, 2024 Genre: 1940’s Period drama and Ancient Greek fantasy Tropes/themes: Family Drama, Courage, Dealing with Loss, Hero’s Journey. Length: 298 pages Heat Rating: 0.5 out of 5 It is the first book in a new series. It ends on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
A Hero's Journey is a Tale of Tragedy Blurb A Hero's Journey Is a Tale of Tragedy. In the wake of his brother's death, Theodore's world is irrevocably shattered. Now he stands alone against the shadows that dance at the whims of Gods. Clad in armour touched by magic and driven by a sharp mind, he faces a world of chaos and trials of unimaginable darkness all to save his brothers life. Each heartbeat of fear, each spark of hope, fuels his fight through a world where his bookish smarts may be his key to survival. Yet, Gods have never been known to play fair - especially the war god - Arēs ‘An Odyssey of Shadows' is the first instalment of a new fantasy series set in the year 1945, penned by Amazon bestselling author and artist Dion Marc. This saga weaves queer protagonists and intricate plot lines into an unputdownable read. Excerpt The air was dense, choking me with its acrid stench. I found myself in an unending void, where even my own body seemed to disappear into the oppressive blackness. But the silence was the worst of all—a soundless void that made my eardrums ache with its sheer weight. Then, a light—faint at first—began to pulse in the distance. A scarlet bloom beckoning me closer. As I drew near, the light revealed itself to be a door, slightly ajar, emanating an even deeper blackness than the void around it. From within, whispers floated out, layered over each other until they became a cacophony of desperate cries and muffled screams. "Join us. Save us. Take us." Unable to resist its pull, I pushed the door wider. Inside was an endless expanse of contorted, writhing figures, locked in a dance of agony. Their skin seared, peeling away to reveal muscle and bone, yet they moved as if in rhythm to some ghastly melody. And there, in the midst of the tormented crowd, was Thomas. His once bright brown eyes were now hollow, devoid of hope or recognition. Chains wrapped around his body, pulling him deeper into the throng. I tried to scream, to shout his name, to reach out, but my voice was stolen by the void, and my limbs were weighed down by invisible forces. My own cries seemed to echo back to me from the abyss until a blinding surge of scarlet light consumed everything About the Author Bestselling Scottish Australian author Dion Marc lives and breathes queer art. Whether he is painting, writing, sewing or dancing naked in the moonlight he does it with pride. He is a practising Hellenistic polytheist who believes in healing the world one hug at a time and that drinking tea without a biscuit is a horrendous crime. Dion has worked on Harry Potter, Moulin Rouge, Hamilton and so many more creative and flamboyant shows. 
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 Their meal finished, Forge walked Blair back to his office. Blair unlocked the door, and at the same time, Forge was doused in another wave of lust and something he could only describe as partnership. Most vampires experienced this sort of bond and empathy for one another during their initial mating. He’d understood the ability to feel each other so strongly diminished after one of them was marked. For them it seemed to increase. This was all new territory for him, and he was discovering how much he liked it, wanted it, and looked forward to it. Forge was indeed a very lucky man. Blair used his hand on Forge’s chest to shove him through the door. He shut it behind them softly. One of Blair’s hands cupped the back of Forge’s neck, and Blair pulled them together, kissing Forge slowly, then slipping his tongue into Forge’s mouth, his fangs nipping his lip. Blair wasn’t usually the aggressor, and Forge adored it when he was. He put one hand on Blair’s ass and held him close, kneading the firm flesh of Blair’s buttock slowly. All too soon Blair broke their kiss. They leaned against each other, panting. Blair trembled. “I have a late class,” Blair whispered. “Will seven be okay?” Forge pulled in a deep breath, kissed Blair’s forehead, and nodded. “I’ll be there.” One more sweet kiss to Blair’s lips and Forge added, “I’ll call you later.” He dipped his head at the door and at the same time cupped Blair’s face, running his thumb lightly over his cheek. “Keep them in line. I’d better get back to work.” “Bye,” Blair said quietly, and Forge thought he sounded a bit wistful. “Keep the streets safe.” By the time Forge started across the parking lot again, he was whistling. He reached his car and had his fingers on the latch when something in his peripheral vision made him turn. The parking lot, cars, garden, and fountain were gone. They’d been replaced by dense woods and thick underbrush. Forge started when someone touched him with gentle fingers, brushing over his shoulder blades. It was a touch that had become familiar to him centuries ago. His clothing scratched at his torso and legs, and moist dirt and moss provided a soft base under his feet. The air was humid and hot. It smelled of decaying leaves, flowers, and berries. Boggslake settlement, 1800s “I remembered it being cooler this far north, ma moitié.” Forge turned toward Declan’s deep, rich voice. He wore lightweight breeches, a white shirt, and a deer hide overcoat. Declan’s thick, dark hair was pulled back and tied, with a leather cord braided through it. The end brushed between Declan’s shoulder blades. Declan stopped walking and moved his rifle from his shoulder to hold it in front of him. Something was off. There was an odd scent in the air. Forge stumbled when Declan put one arm across his chest and forced him back as Declan stepped in front. “What are you—” “Quiet,” Declan hissed. He’d switched from English to French. “Be still.” The strange odor grew stronger, and Forge put his hand on Declan’s shoulder, gripping hard. He swallowed and froze when the source of the odor became apparent. Without warning an invisible wall of cold radiated out from Declan. Forge knew when Declan did that it was very frightening to anyone or anything within a circumference of a dozen yards. The exception was Forge since that wall was never intended for him. A small river lay ahead. What stood in the river, teeth slashing and tearing through a deer, alternately fascinated and frightened Forge. At first glance it looked like a wolf, but no wolf Forge had ever seen before. Even on all fours, the thing stood tall enough to reach Forge’s elbow. When it looked at Forge, it seemed to use its eyes to bore straight to his soul. They were a piercing bright gold. A voice, deep and guttural, called from somewhere deeper in the forest, and Forge thought it said, “Jackson.” The creature turned its head toward the sound. For a second it looked back at them, lifted its lips in a silent snarl, then spun around and bound off across the river. Declan’s gaze shifted to the evening sky. “The moon will be full tomorrow. We should stay in town for a few nights.” Forge nodded. The town was three buildings in a clearing. One of those buildings had rooms for rent. Normally Forge would be excited by the prospect of a real bed where he and Declan could lie wrapped in each other’s arms. The projection of coldness and belligerence from Declan dissipated. Declan tapped Forge’s shoulder. “Let us get to Boggslake.” As Forge followed, he glanced back at the now-vacant river. He finally found his voice. “Babiche, what was that?” “A werewolf. He was young, barely more than a boy. This area is rife with them.” Declan reverted to English. “These woods aren’t going to be safe, even for us, ma moitié.” Boggslake, Present Day Something cold and hard pressed against Forge’s back. He felt a presence. Simultaneously realization filtered into his head that the woods had evaporated, replaced by a concrete parking lot. He was braced against his car. Forge turned around, fumbled with the lock, got the door open, and nearly dove into the car. He sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel, gasping for air. “What the hell? What the fucking hell?” Click on a banner to find more books!    💘💘💘💘eBook sale! Only 2.99 or read in KoboPlus!!💘💘💘💘 Two romances. Two stories. Two timelines. Two mysteries solved. Digging into history can turn deadly. Wyatt Harig and his partner Vladimir ‘Val’ Mihalic are busy planning their wedding when Wyatt’s old friend asks him to investigate the mysterious death of her uncle, Tom Manning, in a fire back in 1927. Back then men were silent, tough, and expected to marry nice girls. Working with Val, Wyatt digs up clues uncovering the truth behind the tragedy. When Tom met Philip in a speakeasy outside Cleveland, Ohio the spark between them was instantaneous. They fell hard and fast for each other. However, with Philip working as a beat cop and Tom as a schoolteacher, their relationship being discovered meant the end of everything. As the story of Tom and Philip slowly reveals itself, and Wyatt and Val realize nothing is as simple as they originally believed. While their trail heats up, an old enemy of Wyatt’s decides he’s waited long enough for revenge. Wyatt’s life before meeting Val catches up with him and the results could prove fatal.  Wyatt knew exactly what Kevin’s strategy was; he’d used it on occasion himself. Unfortunately he didn’t have the time to explain the technicalities to Val, who was reacting in precisely the way Kevin intended. The back passenger window shattered all over the backseat. A second later the larger back window was in pieces. First Val tried shoving Wyatt out of his door, then tried pulling him across the seat and out of the passenger door. The car sank lower and dipped to one side. Wyatt didn’t have to see Kevin’s actions to be able to tell tires were being slashed as Kevin moved around the vehicle. A thud and loud clang clued Wyatt into the fact that the exhaust pipe had possibly been smashed or pinched closed. They might not die trying to drive away, but there was no way to be sure without getting out of the car and looking. Wyatt drew Val in tighter and said, “Stay still. Stay still. He wants us out of the car. A few more seconds, Val, trust me.” Val nodded. He had his good hand wadded into a tight fist in Wyatt’s shirtsleeve. He was pale, trembling, and wore an expression of utter confusion, but did as Wyatt asked. People tended to panic when trapped in a car that was under such an attack. Outside the car Kevin kept moving, smashing the windows and shouting at Wyatt to get out and face him. He was counting on the loud, explosive noise of breaking glass to heighten their fear and create a flight response. If Val and Wyatt tried to escape the car now, Kevin’s tire iron would be waiting. When Kevin moved around to the driver’s side, Wyatt lunged across the seat, shoved Val’s door open, and pushed him out. Then he twisted around and kicked his door open, hoping it was timed right and that he moved fast and hard enough. The harsh grunt and thud from Kevin told him his move was right on the mark. Wyatt tumbled out of the car, landing on all fours. He would only have a few seconds before Kevin recovered. He heard Val scrambling to his feet, boots crunching on the gravel. “What the hell are you doing!” Wyatt wasn’t exactly sure if Val was yelling at him or Kevin. He didn’t take the time to figure it out either. He got his feet underneath him and charged. Kevin had dropped the tire iron, but it wasn’t so far out of reach that a short roll to the side and he’d have it again. If he got ahold of that damn thing again, Wyatt was in real trouble. Kevin twisted onto his stomach and kicked his legs at the same time, extending one arm, fingers brushing the tire iron but not grasping it. Wyatt darted in and landed two fast, quick punches to the back of Kevin’s head and neck. He didn’t care if the blows rendered Kevin unconscious or killed him. Kevin shouted and threw himself onto his back, abandoning the tire iron. He reached under his jacket. Wyatt tried to kick his hand and cause Kevin to drop the weapon he now had. The move didn’t work. “Shit,” Wyatt hissed as a flash of light from Kevin’s hands preceded a lightning bolt rampaging through him, and he dropped like a stone to the ground. A Barlow Lens is available in eBook, paperback and through KoboPlus!
 My teaser today is from Quarry, book 2 of The Vampire Guard! As soon as Forge was out of the room Blair stood, groaning and hobbled out of the suite and to the great room. That’s when he noticed Forge and Lucas were wearing only shorts, the heat was cranked up high despite the warm weather outside. Declan at least had the decency to also have a lightweight, short sleeved shirt on. Forge was holding two bowls, when Blair reached for one, he moved out of reach. “You need to be in bed.” “I want to be with all of you.” Blair tried to take the bowl again. Lucas took both bowls. “If you drop these Moose will eat it, then he’ll get sick.” “And I’ll have to shove pills down his throat,” Forge added. “The farts from him will be ugly.” Blair smiled and shook his head, made his way to the table, and sat down. Forge, Lucas and Declan each took their seats. Blair’s stomach snarled at him and the soup smelled good, steam rose from the bowl. He dug in but stopped and looked around the table after a few spoonsful. Forge was moving his spoon back and forth, Lucas making whirlpools in his soup and Declan sat quietly staring into his meal. The loaf of freshly baked bread sat untouched in the center of the table. “It wasn’t any one’s fault, at least no one here,” Blair said quietly. “I should’ve been the one out there, not you.” Forge stared into his soup, refusing to make eye contact. Declan looked between them. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me.” “Oh, please. What exactly could you’ve done? Do you have some force field you should’ve thrown over me?” Blair turned to Forge. “And you’re a pain in the ass when you’re hurt. I think I speak for the entire Vampire Guard when I say, we’re all lucky it wasn’t you.” Declan sighed. “He’s got a point, Jonas. You’re the worst patient.” “That’s the truth!” Lucas chimed in then dipped some bread in his soup and took a bite. “It happened. I got hurt. And all of you made sure I’d get better. I’ll admit I like being in the van better, but sometimes shit happens.” Blair twisted in his chair and looked over the equipment sitting where their sectional had been. “I could live the rest of my life without being in that thing again. What is it? Weren’t Kai and Ori here? And someone else?” “Its official name is a recovery cocoon. One of the Guard’s medical miracles. Using supercooled water, we, Tiffany—Dr. Launders—and I were able to keep you in what was essentially a medically induced coma to control the pain while you healed,” Lucas explained. “How long? And without drugs?” Blair asked. “Two and a half days. The extreme cold hibernates vampires and is very effective pain relief,” Lucas said. “Kai, Ori, and Dr. Launders are with the Penningtons,” Declan added. “They helped us the first two days, but as you were able to be woken up, they thought it best to clear out and not have too many people hanging around.” “Your feelings about being in water presented a little extra challenge,” Forge said. “How do you feel?” Blair held up a hand, turning it over to look at his fingers. “A little pruney. My leg hurts, it’s more like a constant ach and my back.” He tried to reach around to a spot under his shoulder blade but couldn’t quite hit the right spot. “And it itches too.” “You were impaled by a piece of rebar piping that also punctured a lung,” Forge said, his voice rough. “I felt a lot of what you did.” “I don’t remember much after you guys started lifting blocks of cement off me.” Blair could tell from the emotions radiating from Forge that wasn’t the case for his soulmate. Forge reached over and rubbed Blair’s back a few times. “Good.” “That was part of the point of the treatment. Such intense pain can have devastating emotional and mental consequences,” Declan added. Blair focused on Forge. “But what about you? If you felt what I felt…” The thought he’d done damage to Forge was horrible. Forge shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. I knew what you felt and when you were awake, I did experience a lot of it physically. However, once you were unconscious the physical sensations went away, and everything was more mental. As if I was reading about the feelings or watching it all take place in a movie.” From the sidelong look Declan gave Forge, and what he felt through their bond, Blair knew that wasn’t exactly true. He also understood Forge felt some need to protect everyone from everything and this was one way he’d accomplish that with Blair. At least his three housemates ate their meal and there was a general sense of wellbeing from them by the time all the soup and fresh bread was gone.  Quarry is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.
AG Meiers has a new MM romantic suspense book out: Down the Line. And there's a giveaway. Revenge is a Dangerous Obsession. Dean Hunt needs the story of a lifetime—Since his uncompromising attitude got him fired, the investigative journalist is hell-bent to expose the powerful and corrupt Conway family. It’s a career move, and absolutely not a vendetta against the oldest son Noel, who ghosted Dean after a mind-blowing weekend together. Noel Conway needs a new start—After years away, Noel has come home to rebuild the bridges he’s burned. Too bad his past caused a ripple effect he can’t outrun. Now, he’s asked to save his family from the one man he never expected to see again but can’t forget. Dean is chasing front-page news, and Noel is trying to protect the ones he loves. But the line between enemies and lovers gets blurred when a dangerous criminal from Noel’s past resurfaces. Will the truth shatter their tentative trust? Or do they have a shot at happily ever after? But none of that matters when suddenly Noel disappears… Down the Line, the final book in the award-winning Jake’s Bar series, is a spicy, M/M romantic suspense featuring a rainbow-colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. So, download today, and get ready to fall in love with Jake’s Bar. Warnings: smoking cigarettes and weed in the hot tub, kidnapping (on page scenes restrained), verbally abusive father About the Series: The award-winning Jake’s Bar series is a set of steamy, M/M romantic suspense novels, featuring a rainbow- colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. Giveaway AG is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47310/? Excerpt
As Dean reached the top of the staircase, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of his door. Dean straightened his shoulders. “Detective Conway.” “Hunt.” In a parallel universe, they might have been friends. They were fighting the same fight. Had the same enemies. In this world, they weren’t brothers in arms. In this world, Dean had been cast as the villain. “How can I help you this fine morning?” “Open the door. We gotta talk.” “Look, it’s been a long night—” “Just open the damn door.” Conway snarled, pushing into Dean’s personal space. Dean stood his ground. “Are you here in an official capacity? Because then, the answer is no, I won’t let you in. You have no warrant, no permission to search my property. I don’t consent—” “Just shut the fuck up. None of us wants this shitshow to be on the record,” Con growled. Dean, curious, took a step back and raised his empty hand, palm up. “Okay.” He fished for his key, pushed open the door, and quickly disarmed his alarm system. Conway didn’t wait to be invited in, just crossed the living room, dropped his shearling coat onto the sofa, then walked over to the large window overlooking the river. The view was the only redeeming feature of Dean’s otherwise-generic apartment. The mess didn’t help. There were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, a pizza box on the breakfast counter separating the cramped kitchen from the living room, and an unmade bed in the other corner of the room. “For a guy who anxiously waited at my doorstep, you’re awfully quiet.” Dean smirked. “Coffee?” “No.” Conway turned his back, now studying the row of framed newspaper front pages Dean had hung on the apartment’s interior wall. His personal collection of historic headlines—headlines that changed the world. The oldest was from July 6, 1776. The Pennsylvania Evening Post, printing the Declaration of Independence on its front page. Next to it, the Daily Telegram, declaring the end of the Second World War. The two most recent, the New York Times’ “OBAMA: Racial barrier falls in heavy turnout” and, of course, the front page the day after 9/11. Dean had added a few more personal favorites, like Moneta J. Sleet’s photography of Coretta Scott King at MLK’s funeral. The first Black man to win the Pulitzer for journalism. Conway took his time examining each framed newspaper. Dean already regretted allowing the intrusion into his space. He felt exposed—vulnerable—under silent scrutiny. Irritated, he started banging around the kitchen. He was in no mood to explain that looking at those headlines every day fueled his ambitions and inspired his dreams. Dean believed with every fiber of his being in the power of a free and independent press. He turned on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter. As if Conway felt Dean’s angry glare across the room, he finally turned and stared right back. For a moment, they engaged in a silent standoff. Unease flittered through Dean. Camille had been right. Her brother was seething with anger. And Dean had no fucking idea what he’d done to piss him off. He sighed and shook his head, then took two mugs out of the cabinet and put them onto the island. “Miguel, have a damn coffee. You look like you need it.” “Says the man who clearly slept in his party clothes and crept home at sunup.” “Guilty as charged.” Dean shrugged. Conway curled his lip. “I do not know what my sister sees in you.” It wasn’t a question, so Dean didn’t bother with an answer. “You wanted to talk? So, talk.” Instead of talking, though, Conway pulled out a stack of papers. Pushing aside the coffee cups to make room, he spread them out over the counter. Dean froze. The first blurry photograph featured Dean in another man’s arms. In the next, the same man was pressing Dean against a white porch railing, his own hands tangled in the man’s messy curls. Conway fanned the stack, revealing nearly a dozen more. Dean and Noel Conway, kissing. Suddenly, he was there again, the ocean breeze tugging on his clothes. Noel’s warm skin, tasting like sunshine and a hint of salt, his eyes blown with desire. Goddamn, so fucking beautiful, with that shy smile, whispered promises-- Dean’s throat was desert dry. His ragged breath and the hissing of the coffee machine came together like a fucking symphony. “I—” “Save it. My sister thinks you’re this hotshot journalist. Full of passion. Braving adversity. Motivated by a noble cause. Yeah, fuck that. You’re after my family because Noel pounded your ass, then dropped you like he does everybody else. Your pride—your precious ego—is hurt because you’re just another notch in my brother’s carved-up bedpost.” Conway grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. He turned and added, “Watch it, Hunt. You got no job. No friends. No prospects. But if you think you’ve reached rock bottom, think again.” Dean contained himself until he heard his door close with a soft click. Only then did he allow himself to swipe papers, cups, and the fucking photos off his counter. The cups shattered on the tile floor. Author Bio Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing. When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations. Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after. Author Website: https://www.agmeiers.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/ag.meiers.1/ Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/agmeiers/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/AG-Meiers/author/B07MCHQH5B 
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