 Sometimes, one simple act could change your life. For Ian Groden, one simple act was a recurring event. The sound of the garage door closing barely registered while he sat in his car and reread the small greeting card in his hand. He started when the alarm on his watch went off. A few seconds later, the auto lock on the door leading from the garage to the house engaged with a click that echoed through the garage. “Fuck,” Ian spat and crumpled the card in his fist. Ian shoved out of the car, grabbed his briefcase, and slammed the door shut. “Just fucking perfect!” He dropped his briefcase next to the two steps leading to the door, sat down, and banged his head against the door. Ian tended to be a workaholic. His husband, and Dom, Taren Murdoch had rules about a healthy work/home balance. One hard and fast rule was that Ian had to be home by 5 p.m. sharp, any later, and the door locked. If Ian wasn’t inside the house by the time the lock engaged there would be repercussions. If there were an emergency, he could override the code and get in, of course. Ian preferred not to use the override. In truth, repercussions, discipline--punishment—were things Ian normally looked forward to, and if the mood struck him, he would linger in his car until the lock engaged. Tonight, this was not the case. His home was his sanctuary, and he wanted to get inside. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt before fishing his phone from his suit jacket and called Taren. “Murdoch.” “The door is locked,” Ian blurted out. Taren drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Hold on.” Ian heard Taren moving and then he said in a muffled voice, “I have to take this; it’s Ian.” Someone asked if Ian was all right, and Taren’s response was, “Yes, I think so.” A minute later Taren asked, “Are you okay? Was there an emergency at work?” “N-no. Emergency, I mean.” “Ian,” Taren spoke slowly, drawing Ian’s name out. “Boy. Are you okay?” Being called ‘boy’ immediately dropped Ian into his sub role. “Yes. No. Maybe. Sir.” “Well, that clears everything up.” Taren paused for a minute. “Go inside, get settled, I’ll be home in about an hour, hopefully a little less. Pick out what you’d like to use later this evening if you’re in the mood.” As if Ian was never in the mood for Taren’s skillful attention.       Forge put his earbud in and activated it. Blair did the same before he put his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket, along with a thumb drive and some other odds and ends from his equipment bag. He picked up the cane Declan had loaned him and explained, “My leg hurts a little.” “Hmm… I think it’s more like you think the cane makes you look all James Bond cool,” Forge said and grinned. Blair shrugged and smiled. “You were chasing two men the night you were caught in the implosion, correct?” They heard Maisy ask through their earbuds. Blair and Forge glanced at one another. “Yeah,” Blair said softly. Maisy continued, “There is a lot of chatter among hotel security about someone tampering with the Wi-Fi and other computer-controlled functions. They have pictures of him.” “So not our vampire,” Forge said. “I’m texting all of you his photo,” Declan chimed in. “The elusive Mr. Black, our vampire’s accomplice. We’re going to keep an eye on him and see if he meets up with a certain vampire.” “Dark-side vamp just showed up in the main exhibit room,” Lucas said. “He’s got red hair, glasses, and is wearing boring khakis and a dark green polo shirt. Dane is closer and getting a few snapshots, but it’s him. He can’t hide his body’s scent.” “And that right there makes werewolves so valuable in a case like this,” Palle added. “I need to see the server room and the guest computer center to see what’s happening with the hotel tech equipment,” Blair said to Forge. “It shouldn’t take long.” “Lucas, you and Dane stick with him until Blair gets down to the exhibit room. If he moves, stay with him so Blair can bump into him when we’re done in the server room,” Forge said quickly. “I’ll go with Blair so he can do what he needs to do before we begin baiting the vampire.” Forge opened the door of their room and nodded Blair out into the hallway. The chatter between them stopped as Blair and Forge made their way down the hall to the main level of the hotel. Occasionally they heard one of the others talking to someone, but that was it. The hotel was massive and designed in the shape of a rectangle. There was no wall opposite the rooms, but a continuous balcony that circled the central atrium, open from the main floor to the glassed-in ceiling, every floor above as well as below them visible. They were on the fifth floor, and there were five more floors above theirs. Blair followed Forge to the railing of the balcony. Forge glanced over, turning his head one way, then the other. “This place is a security nightmare,” he grumbled. “Yes, but I don’t think people would want to vacation or attend a convention somewhere with your idea of being secure,” Blair pointed out. Forge snorted and shrugged but didn’t otherwise reply. He and Forge ambled along to the stairs. One of the first things Blair had learned as a field operative was when there was a choice and the time, take the stairs. Declan told him the stairs would allow greater chances to observe a building such as this and the people around him. Forge referred to elevators as ambushes waiting to happen. Since they’d become operatives, he would almost never get into one if given a choice. This hotel promoted taking the stairs, which Blair was sure made his soulmate ecstatic. Wide, central steps started at the topmost floor and wound through each floor to the main level.  Quarry is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.      “Gas gets stolen all the time, batteries not as commonly, but they do. However, someone wouldn’t just happen upon your truck at your house. So, I’m going to say that was a message. The sort of message I don’t like,” Wyatt said. “Once we’re back and have said hello the right way, there are a few things I want to get done tonight.” Val looked to the side and smiled. “Hello the right way? I think I like the sound of that.” An hour later Val was spread naked on his couch, and Wyatt covered him as they slipped and slid together. Val groaned and hung on tightly, finding comfort in Wyatt’s tenderness and touches. “Saying hello” was an excellent way to forget the message of the night before. There are a grand collection of snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Run for the Roses is available in eBook, paperback
and through Kindle Unlimited. Clint blew out a harsh breath. He looked down at his arms. They were tied in front of him with chain. Another chain ran from his wrists to a ring bolted to the floor of the car. Chains encircled his ankles that led back to the ring as well. “I have to take a leak.” “We’ll stop soon. Get some food, something to drink, use a restroom.” Dylan reached over and ran his hand over Clint’s thigh, using his fingertips to press against the sensitive part next to the inseam of his jeans. “Get your hands off me,” Clint snarled. “I don’t know what you think, but Griff’s going to kill you when he finds me.” The words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them. Can’t hide behind Griff’s badge. I won’t hide behind Griff or his badge. His brief glance at his own leg made him realize these weren’t the jeans he remembered wearing last, nor was this his shirt. How he came to be in different clothing was something he decided not to think about. That decision didn’t stop a shiver from working through him. Dylan chuckled again. It was a sick, cold sound. “Oh, we won’t have to worry about Griff anymore. I promise.” He removed his hand from Clint’s leg and grabbed the steering wheel so he could hold his other hand up for Clint to see. “Or his dogs. Especially the bastard who bit me.” “Our dogs.” Clint’s voice broke. He wanted to believe Dylan wasn’t able to hurt Griff. Yes, Dylan had gotten the drop on Clint, but Griff was a professional whose life revolved around protecting others and himself. He had training and skills when it came to self-defense. Clint couldn’t get through this without utter conviction Griff was alive and well despite Dylan’s words. Phoenix and Fern he wasn’t as confident about. A silent cheer went through Clint’s head at the sight of the crude gauze bandage with blood oozing through it. He hoped Phoenix had chomped down hard enough to do real damage to Dylan’s hand. The sort of damage that prevented it from being used normally after it healed. “Anyway, I have a nice trip planned for us. You’ll see how much I want to be like you and love you enough to be with you,” Dylan said without taking his eyes off the road. “And you think threatening the man I live with, the one I actually love, and our dogs, then taking me by force is going to endear you to me?” Clint shouted and tried jerking his feet up and down again. “Stop it!” Dylan snapped. He punched Clint’s head twice. “This is our adventure into love. It’s just you and me and no one else from now on.” The punches stunned Clint. He sucked in a breath and tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. Dylan’s fingers curled in Clint’s hair. He yanked Clint toward him, then away in rapid succession and slammed Clint’s head back against the headrest. Small sparks of pain lanced through his shoulders and down his back until Dylan released him and he could hold his head at a normal angle again. Clint squeezed his eyes shut but couldn’t stop the few tears that trickled down his cheeks. He pressed his lips together and kept his eyes closed, repeating in his head that until he saw proof otherwise, Griff and their dogs were unharmed.       Val chuckled. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I really do miss you.” “I’ve known you long enough, and I miss you too.” Wyatt’s voice was soft and kind. It sent warm feelings through Val. “But work before play. We’ll discuss the rest when I get back. Face-to-face, not on the phone. So, do you want to hear about my incredible skills at digging up details or not?” That made Val laugh outright, and he could hear a soft laugh in return from Wyatt. “You know I do.” “I’m e-mailing you some pictures; see if you recognize any of the people now. I found the connection to the Nottings and Paulle. Mrs. Notting—Carol—is Marcus’s half-sister. They have different fathers.” “So, different last names,” Val said. “Exactly!” Wyatt sounded so excited it gave Val chills. His enthusiasm was infectious. “What else?” “Well, funny you should ask. Carol and Marcus’s mother had a small Thoroughbred breeding farm. She wasn’t involved so much in racing, but did do some showing and judging of dressage horses. She had a couple good horses from good bloodlines. Small operation—cleaned the stalls herself and gave riding lessons to kids.” Wyatt paused and Val heard him move around, and swallow. “Not unheard of,” Val said. “The filly that was stolen and then killed traced her bloodlines to a stallion Mom owned.” “Wow, that’s a helluva coincidence,” Val said. Wyatt snorted. “Tell me about it. I’m not sure how this fits in with whoever is running around killing people. Yet. And I’m not sure it’s important. Yet.” “But there’s more,” Val said. “Oh, yeah. There was a trainer, just starting off about a decade ago. He had a kid working for him as a stable hand. There were some issues with a jockey fixing races. The kid, he was seventeen at the time, moved messages between the jockey and whoever was running the fixes,” Wyatt said. “And if it went south, he was a juvenile, and records would be sealed and expunged,” Val said. “So was the trainer involved?” “I’m not sure. But I did find out who the kid was.” Wyatt stopped and didn’t say any more. Val was on his feet and pacing. “Who? God, the suspense is killing me.” “Didn’t Janelle say Charlie knew nothing about horses?” Wyatt paused and Val heard papers shuffling. “And that he gambled a lot?” Val stopped pacing and looked out the window. He felt the hair on the back of neck bristle. “How long before he became abusive?” Val drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Uh…I think….” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, turned away from the window, and moved to the couch. “They got in deep fast. He always gave me the creeps, but seemed okay with her for the first few months. Real smooth and nice. Then he changed. She never said why, but it seemed like it was overnight.” “Did he ever watch her race?” “Yeah, at first. Why?” Val asked. “That fits perfectly. The kid’s name? Charlie Mills. My theory is it wasn’t a random event that Janelle met him. She started out as his mark. But he got possessive and probably realized she wasn’t going to throw races. I bet he figured a pretty girl, she’s tiny and would be easily intimidated,” Wyatt said. “But he didn’t take into consideration that a hundred pounds of jockey rides twelve-hundred pounds of attitude. And my money is usually on the jockey.” “You catch on quick. We make a good team, and that makes me happy,” Wyatt said. Val opened his mouth to ask another question, but he was cut off when all three of his dogs jumped up and ran to the window, barking. “What’s that?” Wyatt’s voice rose just enough to set Val’s nerves on edge. “Something outside, I think.” Val stood up and started across the room. Val stopped short when Wyatt barked, “Stay away from the windows! Is everything locked?”   My snippet this week is from Shifting Chaos, book 4 of The Sleepless City (series cowritten with Anne Barwell.)  Jonas glanced back at Blair and cocked an eyebrow. “Those morons on the Council cannot do this and I told them so.” “They’re not going to let up on us,” Simon said. “There were solid blue eyes and fangs everywhere!” Lucas spread his arms wide. Simon gasped, and Declan asked the question first. “You vamped out in front of the city council?” “Oh, hell, no. We all know the Supernatural Council was behind this and that bitch of a mayor, Hillary Lassiter, knows that I know it,” Jonas growled. Declan stepped close to Jonas and took his arm. “You broke down a door and yelled, didn’t you?” Behind them Lucas barked a laugh. “It was awesome! First we go to the Curio Shoppe, and when he went in, the minions came running out like they were cockroaches and Forge here was a can of Raid.” Lucas did a few boxing air punches, then clapped Jonas on the back. “Got your back, brother! He did three solid verbal rounds with Uncle Jasper before the werewolves with no necks showed up and we opted to leave.” He scratched at the side of his neck so Declan could see his raw and scraped knuckles. There are plenty of more snippets to read in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group! Shifting Chaos is available in eBook, paperback
and through Kindle Unlimited. COMING SOON - PRE-ORDER NOW! 
Book Title: The Party Plot Author and Publisher: Emily Spady Cover Artist: Morganically_Sourced Release Date: May 7, 2025 Tense/POV: third person past tense, alternating POV Genres: Contemporary MM Romance Tropes: Enemies-to-lovers, small town romance, forced proximity, second chance, no third-act breakup Themes: Self-acceptance, friendship, party planning Heat Rating: 3-4 flames Length: 75 569 words/323 pages It is a standalone story, but takes place in the same universe as my other books. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available for Pre-Order 
A chaotic good boy and a sexy con man clash in this m/m romantic comedy about small-town drama, Southern manners, and being true to oneself. Blurb When Laurel Van Marcke comes home for the summer, he’s immediately thrown back into all the scandals, grudges, and petty gossip he wanted to avoid. But he was expecting that. What he wasn’t expecting was Casey Bright, his mom’s new party planner, who also happens to be the mystery man he spent an unforgettable night with three months ago. But something about Casey, and the whole situation, seems off, and Laurel needs this party to go off without a hitch. Casey has his own agenda for the upcoming Halloween ball, one that doesn’t include Laurel. He wants nothing to do with the spoiled little rich boy, and definitely doesn’t want to get entangled with him again. But Laurel is persistent, and soon, he’s involved himself not only in the party planning, but in all the most intimate aspects of Casey’s life. And Casey absolutely despises him for it… right? One thing is for sure, the first annual Halloween Ball will be the event of the year—one way or another. The Party Plot is an m/m enemies-to-lovers romance featuring elaborate schemes, a few raccoons, several cheesy Halloween props, and a HEA. Excerpt They were passing the Belmont Hotel now, and Mr. Petrowski was telling them about its resident ghost, a phantom dog that would press up against the legs of people it liked. Pretty adorable as far as hauntings went. Laurel tried again to get Casey’s attention. “Do you like dogs, Casey?” Casey shrugged, an irritated frown on his face. “They’re fine, I guess.” “Wow, what an enthusiastic endorsement. Not exactly what a dog lover would say.” “My grandmother had birds when I was a kid.” “Birds?” Laurel hadn’t been expecting that. He sat up, curious about what else Casey might reveal. “Parakeets. And love birds. They were—” Laurel might have been mistaken, but his face seemed to soften for a moment. Then the frown was back. “Loud. They were really loud.” “God. I don’t know how I feel about you being a bird person.” “Says the guy who gives off big Horse Girl Energy.” Casey crossed his arms. “And it was my grandma, not me. I just had to put up with them. Like I’m having to put up with you. Why are you so obsessed with me, anyway?” Because it was hard not to be. Because Casey had been starring in his dreams for the last three months, had been a constant in the back of his mind. Every shock of bleach-blond hair he’d seen across the room, in clubs, in airport lounges, had made his stomach drop and his skin feel hot all over. Every time he put on a tie, he could feel it wrapped around his wrists, could close his eyes and inhale Casey’s scent, the salty, intimate scent of his skin beneath the cologne. Laurel swallowed, feeling desperate and pathetic, feeling like a dog ghost plastering itself to Casey’s leg. “I just want to get to know you.” “Well, I don’t.” Casey looked at him for a long moment. Outside were the footsteps of the horse, slow and deliberate. The sounds of the city waking up. Mr. Petrowski was telling another story, but all Laurel could hear was static, his heart pounding, his tongue heavy in his mouth. Casey held his gaze as he slid across the seat toward him, and then his hand was on Laurel’s thigh, his breath against Laurel’s ear, and Laurel barely kept himself from gasping. His skin was on fire, his scalp tingling and his dick stirring to life as Casey whispered, “I already know everything I want to know about you, Laurel Van Marcke. I know that you’re spoiled, and useless, and not as smart as you think you are. I know that you’re used to getting what you want. But this time, you’re not going to, because it’s run its course. I’m not interested. And when this party is over, I’m looking forward to never having to think of you again.” “Ouch,” Laurel said, not sure why excitement was bubbling in his chest, not sure why—God—he was still hard. Somehow his hand had found its way onto Casey’s collar, and he could smell the coffee on him, feel the quickness of his breath. “Are we clear?” Casey asked. “Sure.” Laurel struggled out. “So clear. Crystal.” Casey’s lips were so close, and he knew how he would taste. Bitter, then sweet and familiar. “Good,” said Casey, and moved away, going back to looking out the window. Laurel’s ears were ringing, moths fluttering in his stomach, his thigh throbbing where Casey’s hand had been. So this was it, then. Casey wasn’t interested in playing nice; he’d said it himself. If there was no hope of being friends (or more, so much more), then there was no reason not to go scorched earth. Figure out what he was hiding once and for all. Laurel cleared his throat. He could still feel the roughness of Casey’s collar between his fingers. “I actually am very smart, you know. Despite evidence to the contrary.” “Could you stop talking?” Casey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ooh, I’m not good at that. Not good at stopping in general.” He felt a smile sliding across his face. “You’re going to have to be.” “We’ll see,” Laurel said, tapping his fingers on the seat. “We’ll see.” About the Author When she is not writing, Emily Spady likes to paint, hike, and, of course, read books. This is her third full-length novel. She lives in the Pacific Northwest of the United States with her husband and cat. Social Media Links 
Lucas was still going on about the as yet un-started painting when they were halfway down the stairs to the kitchen. He stopped and scrunched his nose. “What is that smell?” The all too familiar sound of Jonas and Simon arguing accompanied the foul odor up the steps. They’d had words almost every day for the last five days. The same amount of time Blair had been gone. Declan skirted one way around them and Lucas the other. Lucas poured some coffee and stood off to the side. “When was the last time you ate decently?” Simon barked. “I had a bag of blood yesterday, mom!” “Don’t take that tone with me,” Simon shot back. “Don’t take that tone? I’m not…” “If you weren’t acting like a petulant child, I wouldn’t treat you like one!” Ben rubbed the spot between his eyes, looked over at Declan and mouthed, “Stop them.” “Jonas, Simon is worried, we all are,” Declan said softly. At the same time, he took Jonas’s arm and turned him away from Simon. “Ach, what happened?” Jonas huffed and deflated. “I was on a call and some drunk threw up the last week’s meals all over me.” “I see that.” Declan put a hand on either side of Jonas’s neck and forced him to look directly at Declan. “Mon ami, go change your clothes, then drink some coffee and have some breakfast. Take time off, stop making us all miserable and go to New Mexico and be with Blair for as long as it takes him to make his arrangements. Please.” Jonas’s face fell and his shoulders sagged. “I tried. He told me he didn’t want help. I’m not even sure he’s coming back.” He picked up his damp tie and let it fall back into place. “Blair gave me this tie.” That made Declan feel about two inches tall. “Of course he’s coming back.” “How can he not come back? You’re soulmates.” Simon’s tone changed from angry and frustrated to concerned in a heartbeat. He and Jonas might’ve fought like rabid dogs at times, but they cared very deeply for each other. “According to Lucas and Ben, Blair did consider an apartment closer to downtown,” Declan said. Simon twisted around and sized up Ben. “You knew about this? And didn’t say anything?” “Bloody hell.” Ben shook both hands at them. “The three of you have been so wrapped up in each other’s lives for a hundred and whatever years you have no clue what’s it like to be the new guy. Lucas was new once, too, but you took him in for completely different reasons.” Ben stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, I went with Lucas and Blair and we looked at a few apartments about a mile from here six months ago!” “You went with him?” Jonas turned to Lucas. Lucas sighed. “Don’t look at me like a kicked puppy. Yes. Blair is my friend and he asked for help. All he needed to do was look around at his options. He spent five years in seclusion. You have to admit we can be a bit…” “Insane,” Ben finished for him. “I mean, this run around and dispatch ghosts and goblins and whatever else is thrilling and all but can be a little overwhelming. Never mind dealing with the Supernatural Council and their bullshit. The four of you have a system, Blair and I are learning to fit in.” He looked at Simon. “I never said anything because I didn’t want you or Forge or Declan to take my words the wrong way and hurt your feelings. Lucas and I lived with other people before we came here, and our only other family hadn’t died.” “Jonas, people deal with change and loss and transition in different ways. Ignore what Blair said and go to New Mexico.” Declan gave Jonas’s neck one final squeeze before letting go of him. “After you shower,” Simon added. “I’ll take your suit to the cleaners. Your tie will be good as new.” He looked down at Jonas’s feet and shook his head. “The shoes, however, are a lost cause. Give them a proper burial in the bin.” Jonas nodded. “I’ll go change. Shower, coffee and a good meal and I have to get back to work. Blair doesn’t need me right now and this city does.” Jonas Forge had been a cop in Boggslake, one of its guardians for a very long time. His commitment to that job was admirable, even when he used it as a crutch to avoid his emotions. Knowing there were some things Declan couldn’t fix and accepting that fact were two entirely different and difficult crosses to bear.  Shifting Chaos is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.  JMS Books is giving away books. Deal lasts until May 3! Find Your Next Favorite Read  |
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