Amy Tasukada has a new MM organized crime thriller, book five in the Yakuza Path: "Flowers of Flesh and Blood." And there's a giveaway!

A killer. A traitor. A deadly war that could take their love and their lives…

Ruling the Kyoto yakuza makes Nao Murata a perpetual target, especially with the Koreans encroaching into their territory. An attempt on his life at his mafia headquarters crosses a line. Setting up his beloved ally Aki as the would-be assassin crosses another. Nao knows the only way to save his friend’s life is to sever their growing bond and force Aki to fake his own death…

But Aki Hisona refuses to stay dead. Determined to expose Nao’s would-be killer and save the man he loves, Aki goes deep undercover in the Korean underworld. But when he’s asked to prove his loyalty, he risks becoming caught in a web of his own lies…

With Aki gone and the Kyoto mafia in grave danger, Nao fears his trust in others could be fatal.

Will Nao and Aki find the assassin in time, or will Nao’s rule end in bloody chaos?

Flowers of Flesh and Blood is the powerful fifth installment of The Yakuza Path thriller series. If you like gritty Japanese crime, richly nuanced characters, and slow-burning gay romance, then you’ll love Amy Tasukada’s high-octane novel.

Buy Flowers of Flesh and Blood to slice into the Japanese underworld today!

Giveaway

Amy is giving away five eBook box sets of books 1-4 of The Yakuza Path with this tour. Enter via Rafflecopter:

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Excerpt

Aki closed his fingers around the paper brim of his empty coffee cup and ripped another small piece off. Without looking, he added it to the pile on the table. Mindlessly stuck on repeat, he ripped, added, ripped, added, over and over.

He’d spent the night in the twenty-four-hour Korean café, trading off between sleeping in the bathroom and eating cake to justify staying. He’d been hoping to improve his Korean, but the speakers played nothing but pop songs. Aki learned a million new ways to tell Nao how he felt but doubted he’d gained the right words to impress Namjoon.

Another rip.

Another one on the pile.

Another turn of the mangled cup… Another rip.

His ribs tightened in his chest, crushing his heart until it screamed. He didn’t deserve to be by Nao’s side.

Another turn.

Another rip.

Another sugarcoated song about love.

Aki’s thumb hit the bottom of the cup. Nothing more to tear up but himself.

He stood, bones aching from napping on the bathroom floor. He needed a bed, and the only way was with Namjoon’s help.

Author Bio

Amy Tasukada lives in North Texas with a calico cat called O’Hara. As an only child her day dreams kept her entertained, and at the age of ten she started to put them to paper. Since then her love of writing hasn’t ceased. When she is not penning her next book she can be found drinking tea in a frilly

Amy Tasukada loves hearing from her readers. You can contact her through her website, and also find out how to be first to read her next book!

Author Website: https://www.amytasukada.com

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Kim Fielding has a new MM historical paranormal mystery coming out in the “Bureau” series: "Conned." And we have the cover reveal!

World War I veteran Thomas Donne is new to San Francisco. Always a stoic man, shell shock and a lost love have nearly turned his heart to stone. No matter—a private eye has no room for softness. Almost broke, he takes on what appears to be a simple case: finding a missing young man.

As a magician and medium, Abraham Ferencz cons his audiences into believing he can cheat death and commune with their dearly departed. Although his séances are staged, the spirits are very real, and they’ve brought him almost more pain than he can bear.

When Donne’s case becomes complicated and the bodies start to pile up, he and Ferencz must fight their way through a web of trickery and lies. The truth is obscured by the San Francisco fog, and in their uncanny world, anyone can catch a bullet.

Giveaway

Kim is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card AND eBook copies of The Bureau V1 and V2 to one lucky winner. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:

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Excerpt

When Abe was done with the slates, he would ordinarily have turned to the third and final act of the séance. It involved darkening the room, asking the audience to concentrate on their loved ones beyond the veil, and then operating a series of trap doors and curtains via hidden controls. Masks and gauzy drapery covered in luminescent paint would make flickering appearances. One key here was for his accomplice to have the first sighting. Rosie would gasp or scream before Abe had yet showed a prop, making everyone else eager for their own glimpses. The other key was to do this illusion after the guests had lost any lingering doubts.

It was a wonderful illusion, one that would send his guests away feeling as if their money had been well spent. But today one guest continued to have doubts, and Abe’s curiosity was too strong to resist. He decided to postpone the finale.

“Friends, I vill now move among you and see if I receive any messages from beyond.”

Rosie lifted her eyebrows, clearly surprised he was going to do a cold reading. He generally did that only during séances where he’d given the guests a brief refreshment break and Rosie had the opportunity to slip him notes about the people she’d spoken with at the beginning. It certainly hadn’t been part of today’s plan.

Nonetheless, Abe moved among the chairs with his head atilt, as if he were listening for a faint sound. He stopped in front of Rosie and closed his eyes. “Ah. I’m hearing a voice…. A woman. Mary? No. Margaret.”

Rosie gasped and clutched her chest. “My sister Meg?” she asked tremulously. “She passed five years ago from rheumatic fever.”

In fact, Rosie had two sisters—neither named Margaret and both quite alive—who she didn’t especially get along with and spoke to only infrequently. But she wobbled her chin convincingly as Abe nodded. “Yes. She says she misses you. She remembers the… the necklace you gave her for her birthday. It vas such a lovely gift, she says.”

Tears started to leak from Rosie’s eyes. Crying convincingly on cue was one of her many strengths. “She loved that little thing. We buried her in it.”

“She vants you to know that she’s very happy vhere she is now. She knows your life vill be long, but someday you shall see her again.”

“Th-thank you, Mr. France. Tell her I love her too.”

“She knows.”

Abe moved down the row to a man in his fifties, a Mr. Van Goethem. He was dressed moderately well but not richly, and his weathered face and battered hands suggested he’d once labored outdoors. He had an accent—Dutch or Belgian; Abe wasn’t certain—but it wasn’t strong, so he’d been in the United States for a long time. These observations and a general knowledge of human beings allowed Abe to make some safe guesses.

“I am hearing a woman again. She is…. I see the letter A?”

“Anna?” Mr. Van Goethem seemed confused.

“I am not sure. I believe the A is not at the beginning of her name.”

Mr. Van Goethem let out a noisy sigh. “Johanna. My mother.”

Perfect. Abe had chosen A simply because it was common in feminine names; after that, he could get the guest to lead him on the right path. “Yes, your mother. She says…. Oh.” He frowned deeply as if distressed.

“What? What does she say? Mama, I—”

Abe held up a hand to silence him. “It’s…. Oh, I see.” He bent so as to put his eyes on level with Mr. Van Goethem’s and lowered his voice as if to tell a secret. He knew his words would carry nonetheless. “She says she forgives you, sir. She knows you are a good man at heart. She is proud of you.”

Mr. Van Goethem didn’t cry, but he clamped his lips together and his throat worked. He gave a jerky nod.

This had been nothing but a guess. In Abe’s experience, nearly everyone had disappointed a parent at one point or another.

At last, heart pounding, Abe moved to the back row and came to a halt in front of Donne. Standing this close, he could see a bit of pale stubble on those broad cheeks and stubborn chin. Donne’s eyes were more fog-like than ever: opaque and chilling. The type of eyes a man could get lost in. He sat straight-backed but not tense, heavy muscles relaxed beneath his cheap suit and good shirt. But his hands—yes. They hung over the armrests and moved with the hint of a tremor.

Interesting.

Without truly intending to, knowing it might even be dangerous, Abe reached out and settled a palm on Donne’s shoulder. Although Donne flinched slightly, he didn’t strike out or move away. His jaw tightened, though, and his eyes narrowed.

The war, Abe thought. Yes. Donne was the right age for it, and his accent thick enough to suggest he’d come of age in England instead of the United States. Besides, there was something about the set of his body and the creases around his eyes. “I hear… a man,” Abe began.

And then he did.

As clear as if the person stood next to him, a voice spoke in Abe’s ear. It sounded young and sad and thin. Tommy. Oh, my darling Tommy, what have they done to you?

Abe unwillingly echoed a phrase, the words tearing his throat. “My darling Tommy.”

Donne leapt to his feet, jerking back so violently that he toppled the chair. One hand went into his coat pocket, and Abe was certain he was about to be shot. The idea didn’t frighten him, mostly because he was too deeply awash in the spirit’s sorrow. “Don’t hurt him, Tommy.” From his own mouth, but it wasn’t his accent or his voice. “Please don’t.”

The spirit… the man had been in his early twenties, perhaps. A pointed chin and sharp nose, thin mobile eyebrows, a wide mouth always a moment away from a cheeky grin. Ears that stuck out a little. Abe knew this although he couldn’t see the spirit. Just as he knew the spirit’s name. “Albert,” he said in his own voice.

Donne jerked again but held his ground. He was breathing hard.

Abe’s knees felt weak, his head swam, and Albert whispered in his head: tiny snippets and phrases that Abe couldn’t quite catch. Reaching out for a chair back to support himself, he became aware of the wide eyes and gaping mouths of his guests.

With considerable effort, he gathered his wits, giving Donne a quick apologetic glance before striding to the front of the room. He cleared his throat before falling back into his faux accent. “I am sorry, friends. Today the spirits have qvite exhausted me. I hope you have found some of the answers you sought.”

The guests seemed pleased as they gathered their coats and hats and filed toward the hallway and the door. They thanked Abe as they shook his hand. Soon only two others remained: Rosie, looking about as if perhaps she’d mislaid a glove, and Donne, towering and jut-jawed in the back of the room.

“I need to talk to you,” Donne growled.

Abe simply nodded. He took Rosie gently by the arm and led her down the hall, surreptitiously offering her five dollars at the door. She took it but paused with her hand on the knob. “Are you all right?” she whispered.

“I’m fine.”

“That was—”

“I’ll explain another time, sweetheart.”

She scrunched her mouth together. “But that big fella, he don’t look too safe.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rosie.” He gave her a gentle push out the door and locked it behind her. Then he turned and walked back to face Donne.

Author Bio

Kim Fielding is the bestselling, award-winning author of numerous m/m romance novels, novellas, and short stories. Like Kim herself, her work is eclectic, spanning genres such as contemporary, fantasy, paranormal, and historical. Her stories are set in alternate worlds, in 15th century Bosnia, in modern-day Oregon. Her heroes are hipster architect werewolves, housekeepers, maimed giants, and conflicted graduate students. They’re usually flawed, they often encounter terrible obstacles, but they always find love.

After having migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States, Kim calls California home. She lives there with her family, her cat, and her day job as a university professor, but escapes as often as possible via car, train, plane, or boat. This may explain why her characters often seem to be in transit as well. She dreams of traveling and writing full-time.

Author Website: http://kfieldingwrites.com

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/KFieldingWrites

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Shea Balik has a new MM paranormal dystopian romance out in eBook and audio formats: "Mating the Enemy."

Siberian Tiger shifter, Aleksi Rykov, is amused to watch the enemy chasing one of their own, psy, Seth Tilton, until he realizes it's his mate. Rescuing his mate isn't difficult for the powerful Alpha but keeping his mate safe from the war raging between their races may be more difficult.

Seth is taking a chance running to the one man he knows can keep him safe, Aleksi. Seth knows the psy's secrets and the psy will do anything to get him back but with Aleksi's help Seth can help turn the tide of the war and uncover the horrible truth. The question is will Aleksi be willing to help the enemy?

Both sides are against their mating and doing their best to tear the two apart but Aleksi and Seth are determined to stay together against all odds. Can Aleksi and Seth manage to find happiness by mating the enemy?

Amazon eBook | Audible Audio | Amazon UK

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Giveaway

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Excerpt

December 21, 2012, 4:00 a.m., Sydney, Australia.

“Aahhhh!”

“That’s it. You’re doing a great job.” Even with his body begging for just a few hours of sleep, the adrenaline was keeping Eli alert as he was only two hours shy of finishing a forty-eight-hour rotation on the maternity ward. His only chance at a nap had been interrupted when Abbey and her husband, Frank, came in. Eli would swear there was a conspiracy to keep him awake. How he was even functioning he wasn’t sure anymore.

“Okay, it’s time to push again,” he gently told Abbey, who was about to be a mom for the first time. Frank held her hand, or to be more precise she gripped his hand like a vise. It looked like the circulation had been cut off from the man’s hand for some time but Frank never once complained, just encouraged his wife and kept her as calm as possible.

This was the type of delivery Eli preferred, the parents not screaming at each other, just happy to bring their child into the world. Yeah, he knew it was painful, but still, he really hated it when the women got hysterical.

The head pushed through and he went to work cleaning out the baby’s airway. One more push and he held the infant as it took a stuttering breath before letting out a cry at being shoved out into the cold, unforgiving world.

The parents were smiling, beaming as Eli brought the child up to lie on his mother’s stomach. “It’s a boy—” was barely out his mouth before the infant changed into a dog. No, more like a dingo.

There was no way he was seeing this. Scrunching his eyes closed and shaking his head, Eli quickly reopened his eyes and, yep, it was a dingo he was holding instead of a baby. Suddenly the baby was back and screaming at the top of his little lungs.

Without missing a beat he laid the child on his mother’s stomach, cut the umbilical cord, and let one of the nurses quickly take the baby away to be cleaned. It just couldn’t have happened and he hoped if he ignored it so would everyone else.

“What…” Frank’s mouth kept moving but no sound came out as his eyes stayed on his son. Suddenly his gaze found the doctor’s and he demanded, “What happened?”

Damn. Somehow Eli didn’t think he’d be leaving when his shift was over.

#

Same day, 5:00 a.m., small village in India.

Murali ran as fast as his legs would carry him from his family’s home, a small hut set in the middle of the land they farmed. It took him just a few minutes to reach Nanda, the woman who would help his mother deliver his next brother or sister. “Come, come. She is ready,” he told Nanda when she came to the doorway.

When she nodded her understanding, Murali rushed back home to let his parents know Nanda was on her way. Once he told his parents, he quickly went out to start his chores along with his brothers and sisters.

He’d just turned eight and with each birthday his list of chores grew. Each morning he had to help feed the animals and shovel the manure. He loved the animals and enjoyed the time he spent feeding and watering them but today he rushed through his chores so he could get back and see the new baby. Was it even born yet?

The urgency to get back to the hut to find out had him finishing quickly. A loud scream from his mother as he neared told him the baby hadn’t been born yet. Without making any noise he quickly darted into the hut so he could watch.

Just as he got into position, his mom let out an exhausted shout and the next thing he knew Nanda was holding a baby. Wanting to get closer, he stepped over to the mat his mom was lying on, his gaze completely focused on his little sister.

Suddenly, his sister was completely surrounded by flames that licked over her body, consuming her. Nanda screamed and dropped her. Fortunately, she was only inches off the ground. Nanda started spewing horrible names at his sister and mom.

The blankets around his mother caught fire and before Murali knew what was happening the entire hut was engulfed in flames. Nanda ran, leaving his mom and sister to die.

Murali jumped into action by running to his mom but by then the blankets had done their damage and he knew there was no way he could save her. Turning to his sister, Murali could see the flames around her were no longer there. In fact, it looked like the flames were avoiding her.

Picking her up, he ran from the hut just before the roof collapsed.

#

Same day, 12:00 p.m., Nashville, TN

“You no good redneck. How dare ya do this to me? I swear ya ain’t touching me again, do ya hear me, Billy Joe?”

It had been like this for the last three or four hours, and as much as Betty enjoyed seeing the stupidity of first-time parents, she was over it.

Her shift ended an hour ago but her replacement was late, again. So here she stood, trying to encourage the woman to push as Betty waited for the doctor to get in. Seeing the head crown, she hoped the doctor got in quickly or she’d be delivering this baby.

Not that she was surprised. The doctors tended to waltz in at the last second to basically sit down, catch the baby, and walk back out, while she had to sit with the parents the whole time, listening to them bitching.

The door swished open and in strode the biggest jerk on the planet. “Good afternoon, folks.” Betty quickly hopped out of his way as the doctor sat. “Looks like it will be just another couple of pushes and your new son will be born.”

Just as predicated, two more pushes and the baby boy was in his hands. Holding the newborn up, the doctor announced, “I’d like you to meet your son.” A round of shocked gasps were heard as the baby suddenly changed into a bear cub.

The mother of the bouncing baby bear passed out. The father just stood there, his mouth agape and his eyes opening and shutting repeatedly as if hoping that would change things. The doctor screamed like a girl and dropped the bear onto its passed-out mother’s stomach.

Betty was just glad the doctor had come in before this happened.

#

Same day, 6:00 p.m., Oahu, Hawaii.

The storm was bad, trees were down, the electricity was out, and Tia knew there was no way she was going to get to the hospital before she delivered. She tried 9-1-1 and they told her it would be miracle if they could get out there, but they would try.

Her lover of ten years, Trent, was online trying to find information about delivering a baby from home. She knew she should be panicking about now, but she wasn’t. What was the point really? There was nothing she could do about it.

It had been that way through much of her pregnancy and she often wondered about it. She was normally a nervous person, prone to anxiety attacks. When she first learned she was pregnant, she had to be hospitalized. But sometime around the third month a sense of peace and calm fell over her like a veil, shielding her from all those chaotic feelings she normally had.

So now she lay in the guest bedroom, because she refused to ruin her own mattress, and waited patiently for her baby to be born. There was no doubt in her mind her son would come with or without a doctor.

It wasn’t until the need to push came that she finally called for Trent, who looked about ready to pass out as all the color bled from his body. She honestly didn’t think a guy who spent so much time in the sun surfing could be that white.

He’d only just made it into the room when she started pushing, her body not willing to wait any longer. Trent’s eyes filled with panic, but he still came over to help. Grabbing one of the towels he’d set next to the bed as he got into position to deliver their son.

A new life came into the world, one that looked like every other healthy child. A baby boy who had the gift of empathy, one who not only could feel the emotions of others but could change their feelings also. He would quickly learn to hide his abilities, which would save his kind from the torture of the scientific community.

Author Bio

Bestselling author of the Cedar Falls Series, Miracle Series, and Paranormal Wars Series, Shea Balik has always had a vivid imagination with stories running around in her head. Often her stories are taken from observations of other people with her own spin. Traveling is one of her favorite ways of fulfilling her passion of people watching. You never know, one day you may spark her imagination for her next book.

Whether at home or traveling she is usually in front of her computer writing or curled up with a good book. Find Shea at any of the links below!

Author Website: https://www.sheabalik.com

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/sheabalikpage/

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/BalikShea

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Bryan T. Clark has a new contemporary MM romance out: "Far Away." And there's a giveaway!

First love can save you … and ruin you …

Eighteen-year-old Noah Rothenberg spent the perfect summer with his first love, the charming and seductive Spiro. He fell head over heels in love from what started as a clumsy crush.

But that was twelve years ago. His relationships since have been spectacular failures because of how things ended with Spiro. If he has any hope of moving forward, he needs to find Spiro and get some closure … even if he has to fly halfway around the world to do it. Too bad he instead finds himself falling—again—for the man who ruined him for all other men.

Love isn’t an emotion Spiro Papadopoulos entirely trusts anymore. He’s far too pragmatic for that. His focus these days has to be on his art and caring for his ailing mother. Being with Noah again is easy and feels so right … but is it love? Spiro isn’t sure. Besides, with his entire life being tied to Greece and Noah’s to New York, love might just be a luxury neither of them can afford.

Can Spiro and Noah overcome the oceans and years between them—or will their second chance at love end as badly as their first?

Giveaway

Bryan is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour - enter via Rafflecopter for a chance to win:

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Excerpt

“Good morning, Mr. Rothenberg.” Eros put a hand on his knee to steady himself as he stood. Aloof in the shadows, Spiro held his gaze on him. Noah couldn’t look away as Spiro’s eyes washed over him from head to toe. Were they brown or green? Afraid he’d stared too long, he broke eye contact, his eyes sweeping past the visitor’s long dark sideburns that cupped his ears.

“Sorry to disturb you.” Noah’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried to put on a cool and collected face, not wanting to seem like the dork that he was. “I was hoping you could help this morning with the rowboat.” His thumb pointed to the boathouse, but his eyes remained on Spiro. Face-to-face, Eros’s nephew was... beautiful. A statue of beauty.

Noah tried to look away but couldn’t. Yes, Spiro was a hair taller than he. His square jawline, straight nose, and jade eyes rimmed in gold were mesmerizing. Noah’s heart sped as he broke eye contact. Excitement swirled in his gut at the proximity of this Adonis.

“Sure.” Eros tossed his hammer into his box of tools. Noah’s eyes followed Eros as Eros turned and spoke to his nephew.

Noah’s eyes drifted to Spiro’s bow-shaped lips before moving up to his eyes. Their eyes met, causing Noah’s heart to skip a beat. Noah had no idea what he saw in those cat eyes that were staring intensely back at him and caused his heart to flutter. It wasn’t disdain, dominance, or dismissal, the usual looks his peers gave him upon meeting him for the first time. It was... he’s really looking at me.

Everything about Spiro enthralled him. No longer wishing away the next two months before he could escape to Harvard, he was cautiously excited about the summer.

“Hi, I’m Noah.” He felt the heat of a blush on his cheeks as he extended his hand. Spiro looked directly at him; his deep stare instantly pinned Noah. His dark locks of hair, jet black, ran the length of his neck and curled at the nape of his neck. Noah tried to release a breath quietly. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like the multiple streams that fed into Lake Winnipesaukee. He’d never acted this boldly when it came to meeting someone. The way Spiro looked at him gave him the boost of confidence that he could actually stand here and talk to him. This was a first, and it surprised him.

Spiro shook Noah’s hand. “Um, my English is not so good. My name is Spiro.” A deep voice cast from his full lips. Spiro saying his own name sounded more exotic than when Noah’s grandmother said it.

Geeze Louise, his teeth are perfect, too. They’re so freaking white. Noah stumbled over his own words as he searched for something to say. Spiro’s gaze kept Noah from looking for more than a second before lowering his head.

Author Bio

Bryan T. Clark is a multi-published award-winning author of gay romance, and contemporary books.

In his early in life, Bryan learned that he was different from everyone else in his world. As a young African American boy, he was the second to the youngest of seven children. Long before hormones kicked in and the realization of same sex attraction, it was his light skin and blond hair that made him different from those around him. Teased within his own race for being lighter than everyone else, the kids on the playground called him “Cornbread”.

As a writer, Bryan has taken back the power once given up to those schoolyard bullies. He is committed to bringing his readers stories of real life, with multicultural characters, riveting plots, and where the underdog always wins. He is the founder of Cornbread Publishing: the name empowers him and is a constant reminder that life can have a Happily-Ever-After.

Born in Boston, Massachusetts, Bryan and his husband of thirty-six years has made their home and life in the Central Valley of California.

Author Website: https://www.btclark.com

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