 Drawing a deep breath, Ori opened the door and slipped to the next car. From the noises he heard now, the fuel car was next, then the engine, making this the first car with ‘passengers’. He came to an abrupt halt and leaned back against the door, gaze sweeping the train car. This car was luxurious compared to the way people were crammed into the other cars, if one didn’t take into account the occupants were chained together. Three werewolves and two vampires. They studied Ori and he took stock of them. Moving quietly forward he said in Yiddish, “No German, French, or English.” They all nodded. “How?” Ori asked. One man, a werewolf, cleared his throat and spoke softly. “They came to our town and took children from school, saying if we didn’t do as we were told the children would be shot.” Ori sucked in a breath. No werewolf would be party to a child, werewolf or human, being hurt. It was against their nature. To them the pack and its offspring were everything. “How did they recognize you?” The man shook his head. “I do not know, but they knew there were non-humans among the humans in our section of town.” Ori nodded and looked at the vampires. The man continued, “There was a room in a local tavern that was lined with iron. An electric current was run through the floor once we were inside.” “It is possible for humans to learn to recognize us and your kind. It would only take one person,” another of the werewolves pointed out. “There are others on this train. How and why, I don’t know. I don’t think it matters,” Ori said. He looked all around the train car, finally seeing a hook near the far door with keys hanging from it. Moving fast Ori sprinted to the other end of the car and snagged the ring with the single key on it. He bounced it between both hands a few times before he could determine it was iron, not silver coated. Silver was deadly to a vampire or werewolf if it got into their blood stream. Iron would trap and hold them, but not hurt them. “We have others on this train. All of us need to work together. Everyone can be freed before we reach the death camp,” Ori said. He made eye contact with each of the five people. “Us.” He tapped his chest then motioned to the vampires. “And them.” His hand swung in the direction of the werewolves. “And the others on this train can save the people here. Maybe we can’t save everyone in this war, but we can help this trainload of people.” “Do you see the weapon locker over there?” One of the werewolves nodded to cabinets along one wall. They were short, more like trunks anchored to the floor and wall. Ori bent and took hold of one edge of the closest trunk. The fact it was locked only slowed him down by a few seconds. When he looked inside, he expected to see rifles, handguns, grenades, and knives. What he saw was something entirely different. Neatly lined throughout the trunk were at least a dozen containers with tightly screwed on tops. Inside was what looked like a type of jelly or slurry, some had what appeared to be congealed blood, but Ori wasn’t sure that’s what it was. He picked one up and held it out. “What are these?” “They bound us with these chains then took a knife and scraped our skin until it bled,” One of the vampires, a woman, said. “They used needles on some of us, poked me here.” She put two fingers under her jaw. “And here.” The female werewolf put one hand over her side. “Then what they took from us was put into those containers.” Ori picked up several of the containers and held them in both hands. He stuffed them inside his shirt before he took the key and unlocked one of the vampires and one of the werewolves. Pressing the key into the werewolf’s palm he took her hand in his and said gently, “All of us, together. We’re Jewish first. I’m a rabbi first, vampire second.” Endosymbiont is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.      Ian thought about Taren’s request. He didn’t often like having his senses deprived, but Taren so rarely asked to use something so intense. Ian could deny the request, of course, but he was curious, trusted his husband without reservation and it was another item on their fantasy list. Swallowing hard and clearing his throat Ian said, “Yes, sir.” “You won’t be able to speak well enough so I can understand you, so instead of a safe word, we’ll need a safe signal,” Taren said and sat beside Ian again. Ian nodded. He extended two fingers on his right hand. “Stop.” Then a finger on his left hand. “Okay.”  No Regrets is available in eBook. Read more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group.
 Raul reached out and took Brandon’s hand. “Then we will. We’ll talk to the cops and get you somewhere safe. After that we pool our talents and resources and get the answers.” “But first I need clothes,” Brandon pointed out. He didn’t have long to wait before a tall man with shoulder length black hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing a three-piece suite arrived. Smiling broadly, he slipped a duffle from his shoulder and asked, “How are you feeling?” “I remember you. You were at the warehouse with Raul and helped me. I appreciate it,” Brandon said. Striding forward the man held out one hand to Brandon. “Fahim Boulos.” He shook Brandon’s hand and bowed slightly. “It was my pleasure. I’m glad to see you’re doing better.” Fahim turned to Raul. “Your truck is parked in the west lot. Need a lift? I can get you sprung from here faster than hospitals normally move.” He tapped the duffle. “Your laptop is in there too.” Brandon laughed. “I think I’d better wait for official discharge.” He pulled out his computer and opened it, letting it boot up. “Is the west lot less than a mile from here?” Raul asked. When Fahim nodded and motioned out the window to the parking lot three stories below, Raul added, “We can walk, but thank you.” Fahim mock saluted them. “Very well. Brandon, continue to get better. You have my number if you need me for anything. It’s already saved to your contacts along with other information of mine that might prove useful someday.” Brandon sucked in a breath and grinned when a phone number appeared on his monitor. “How’d you do that?” Fahim shrugged and chuckled. “I’m a jinni. Magic is what I do. It’s a good skill in my line of work when someone tries to bury information I’m trying to dig out.” His eyebrows bobbed a few times. “Do call if I can be of further assistance.” He gave Brandon a wide grin and aimed one thumb at Raul. “Keep this guy in line.” Brandon nodded. “I will. Thanks.” He waited until Fahim was gone before slipping out of bed and heading to the bathroom to get dressed. Raul seeing him in a hospital gown was one thing, but not a stranger who wasn’t part of the hospital staff. The simple act of putting on clothes made him feel much better. Raul stood by the door, leaning against the wall. “My family owns a small hacienda near Rio Rico. It’s quite secure, you’ll be safe there.” Brandon noticed that Raul’s all business tone didn’t match how his expression softened when he looked at Brandon. “Do you think the two men who weren’t arrested will come after me?” Nodding, Raul said quietly, “Yes.” “Don’t sugarcoat it for me or anything.” Brandon paused, collecting his thoughts. “I can help find them. With your help or without it, I’m going to get to the bottom of this and find the asshole who had me kidnapped.” “We have tech at the hacienda, and can get more if you need it,” Raul said. “Do you know what happened to the equipment at the warehouse?” Brandon asked. “The police would’ve confiscated it all. I don’t know what they’ll give us access to, but we can try.” Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on Brandon’s door. As he had each time someone requested entry, Raul looked out, opened the door but stayed between Brandon’s visitor and Brandon. The same doctor who’d visited Brandon the previous day was back.      NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Walking on Broken Paths Author and Publisher: Amy Aislin Cover Artist: Morningstar Ashley Release Date: July 22, 2025 Tense/POV: third person, past tense Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance Tropes: Childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, damaged hero, opposites attract, grumpy/sunshine Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 53 000 words / 210 pages It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Audiobook also available Direct store 
Blurb Desperate to escape the pain of his brother’s death, Jesse Melnik ran—but he couldn’t outrun the grief, no matter how much distance he put between himself and his past. Now, after fifteen years of trying, he’s finally ready to face his hometown of Charlottetown again. He expects the memories of his brother to hover in every corner of his family’s sailboat and whisper in every sea-tinged breeze. What he doesn’t expect is Parker Willis, the best friend he left behind without a word the day he fled. And he certainly doesn’t expect old feelings to resurface. Parker’s been stuck in a rut since his father died three months ago. Every day is the same: try to keep his father’s dinner cruise business afloat so he can chip away at Dad’s debts, all while working a job that leaves him more frustrated than satisfied. Then Parker’s routine shatters in the best way possible: Jesse Melnik returns to Prince Edward Island for the summer, all six feet three inches of gorgeous hockey player. Now, that’s different. Jesse kickstarts Parker’s heart. Parker makes Jesse feel again. And although both men are a little bit damaged from struggling down the broken path of loss, maybe—just maybe—if they can lean on each other, they’ll learn to move forward at last. Content warnings: themes of grief, discussions of a parent's death from cancer, discussions/descriptions of a sibling's death from suicide Excerpt Jesse glanced over and nearly swallowed his tongue. How dare running shorts be so goddamn tiny and cling so goddamn nicely to long, shapely legs dusted with hair the same shade as the finest dark chocolate? Jesse was still reeling at being in the same place at the same time as Parker for the first time in years—had, in fact, tossed and turned all night thinking about Parker—and now he showed up out of nowhere again and sent Jesse’s libido into a jumble of desire and yearning? There were things that Jesse had left in his past, and his attraction to his best friend was supposed to be one of them. Former best friend? Best friend he’d recently gotten reacquainted with? Former best friend who could be his new best friend? Fuck. Relationships were hard. Along with the shorts, Parker also wore a long-sleeved running shirt in teal and a baseball hat with Montreal hockey’s logo on the front. His dark hair curled out from underneath the sides of the hat, and the two-day stubble on his jaw was way sexier than Jesse wanted to admit. He was a couple of inches shorter than Jesse’s six foot three, but whereas Jesse was—admittedly—very big, even for a defenceman, Parker was lanky and toned, the muscle definition obvious in his running gear in a way it hadn’t been in the jeans and Willis Dinner Cruises-branded long-sleeved T-shirt he’d been wearing last night when he’d appeared like a figment of Jesse’s childhood wishes and sat next to him on the bench at the marina. Whatever he wore, Parker looked like he’d fit into all of Jesse’s empty spaces. Shaking his head to rid himself of that thought, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and scowled. “I’ll get you a new hat.” Parker’s lips quirked. “I like this hat.” “Since when are you a Montreal fan?” “Hey, don’t knock them. They made it to the playoffs.” The unlike you was left unsaid, but Jesse heard it loud and clear and refused to be amused. “So.” Parker’s shoulder bumped up against his. “What are you doing?” “What are you doing?” “This is my jogging route.” “That so?” Jesse would have to remember to be by his window in the mornings so he could watch Parker run by in his short shorts. “Mm-hmm. Is it your jogging route?” “No.” “What are you doing here then?” Glancing back at the house, Jesse let out a long breath. “Deciding what to tackle first. What colour would you paint that door?” Parker blinked once and frowned. “Why would you paint it any colour?” “Because that rusty red makes me think of dead bodies on a crime show?” “No, I mean . . .” That unique greyish-greenish gaze of Parker’s swung from Jesse to the house and back. “Do you know the people who live here? Are you doing work for them this summer or something?” “I live here,” Jesse said. “And I don’t want to live with that gross colour for the next two months.” “You . . . bought a house?” Jesse grunted. “But you live in Vancouver,” Parker said slowly, as though reminding Jesse of this fact. “No, I know, but . . .” But what? He’d wanted a project for the summer? Something that would keep him occupied so he didn’t have to think about where he was and why he was back for the first time in fifteen years? A fixer-upper was as good a distraction as anything. His therapist wouldn’t love that he was keeping busy instead of sitting with and analyzing his feelings. But she didn’t have to know. Right? When Jesse didn’t continue, Parker said, “Are you retiring from hockey and moving back here?” “Fuck no,” Jesse blurted. 
About the Author Amy’s lived with her head in the clouds since she first picked up a book as a child, and being fluent in two languages means she’s read a lot of books! She first picked up a pen on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class had to stay inside for recess. Tales of treasure hunts with her classmates eventually morphed into love stories between men, and she’s been writing ever since. She writes evenings and weekends—or whenever she isn’t at her full-time day job saving the planet at Canada’s largest environmental non-profit. An unapologetic introvert, Amy reads too much and socializes too little, with no regrets. She loves connecting with readers. Join her Facebook Group to stay up-to-date on upcoming releases and for access to early teasers, find her on Instagram, or sign up for her infrequent newsletter. Social Media Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram Newsletter Sign-up | Facebook Group 
 Ian lifted his head only far enough to look Taren in the eye. He still swayed slightly, even with Taren’s firm grip on him. “Are you okay?” Ian bit his lip, nodded, and whispered, “Yes, sir.” Another shudder ran through him at the thought of Taren taking him in this state. “I need…sir, please….” Ian cleared his throat and made his voice come out with more conviction. “Whatever you want sir, is what I need. Please.” It was more answer than Taren required, and Ian shivered again from the thoughts of what discipline he might receive for his indiscretion. Taren often joked that Ian committed these acts of rebellion just so more punishment and training would be doled out. It was the complete truth and Ian’s way of asking for more, without really asking. Taren pulled in a slow breath through his nose and exhaled it equally as slowly, all the while studying Ian. No doubt he was considering Ian’s state of mind and body and deciding how to proceed. Without further comment Taren gripped the short chain between Ian’s wrists, turned and strode from the shower. He paid no attention when the towel dropped from Ian’s body as he walked. Ian had no choice but to trot along, naked with his cock hard and on display for all to see. Taren would never let anyone touch Ian unless it was what Ian wanted, but he did linger outside their door, forcing Ian to stand with his back to the wall, staring meekly at his feet while a few people walked by. One couple, a man and woman, stopped to watch and gave Taren admiring compliments about Ian’s training and utter submission. Ian was more accustomed to his cock being bound and secured against his body, not sticking straight out for all the world to see. Ian shivered again. Taren ran a finger along Ian’s shaft, making his cock twitch then jerk up and down. He used the same finger to trace a path up Ian’s torso, making him tremble. The couple commented on the lovely sight Ian was displaying. Taren thanked them and opened the door to their room, nudging Ian through. Once inside, Ian hurried to the room’s center and dropped to his knees, hooked his wrist chain behind his neck and kept his head down. “You spoke without permission.” Taren walked in a slow circle around Ian. “For now, I’ll overlook it, but I reserve the right for extra training later since I’d planned something else for today.” He hooked a finger under Ian’s chin and lifted so Ian was forced to stand up. “You may pick where and how I’m going to fuck you, boy.” Any time Ian was given such choices he considered his options carefully. Taren never rushed him and today was no different. He’d very much enjoyed the sling, but it would take time to set it up. Time Ian didn’t want to waste. Ian glanced quickly around the room, stopping when his gaze landed on the enormous, square bed. Thick, rough, wood rafters adorned the ceiling and created a perfect frame for any number of restraint equipment they could use. The wall behind the bed was filled with floggers, whips, paddles, masks, ball gags, spreader bars, and leather ankle and wrist cuffs all arranged in an artistic pattern, creating the perfect backdrop for their activities. They were limited only by their imagination. Taren could be darned imaginative.     My snippet this week is from Shifting Chaos, book 4 of The Sleepless City (series cowritten with Anne Barwell). “Those black lines I keep seeing? This time they swirled around Forge. Like a boa constrictor, and just…” Blair’s voice cracked and his expression was agonized. “I saw it tighten down until it disappeared inside him.” Ben put his arm around Blair’s shoulders and pulled him in. Declan was surprised when Blair leaned against Ben for a minute since he’d never seen Blair accept much physical comfort from anyone except Jonas. Lucas dropped down beside him and reached for Declan’s arm. “Let me see.” “It’ll heal, Lucas.” Declan was suddenly exhausted, and the thought of his arm being touched, even gently, horrified him. “I know,” Lucas said and laid one hand gently on Declan’s head. “But let me set it so it heals properly.” “What the hell are you two?” Simon snarled. “I’ve known you both for a century, and neither of you wankers ever thinks to mention this once?”  Shifting Chaos is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited. Read more snippets in the Rainbow Snippet Facebook group.
NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Golden Bond Author, Publisher, Cover Artist: Tavian Cross Release Date: July 9, 2025 Tense/POV: first person, past tense, alternating POV Genres: MM Fantasy Romance Tropes: Bonded lovers, strangers to lovers, forced proximity Themes: fate, choice vs duty Heat Rating: 5 flames Length: 56 000 words/200 pages It is the first in the series. The romance between MCs is complete here. It works as a standalone. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
I came to the sacred island to pay my family's debt. I never expected to lose my heart. Blurb My name is Callis, and I'm an offering. Sent to Eletheria—the legendary pleasure palace where gods once walked among mortals—I have one purpose: submit to the bonding ritual, serve my time, and return home with my family's honor restored. But the man who chooses me changes everything. Auren is silver-haired, devastatingly beautiful, and dangerously powerful. As a Thorn of the sacred order, he needs to complete a successful bond to advance in rank. I should be just another transaction to him—a means to an end. Instead, he awakens something in me I never knew existed. Under his skilled touch, I discover pleasure that burns hotter than temple incense. The bond between us grows deeper than any ritual, more consuming than prayer itself. But Auren carries the scars of three failed bonds, and I have a ship waiting to take me home. As our connection intensifies, I'm forced to choose: honor my duty and leave, or risk everything for a love that could either complete us both—or destroy us. Some debts can only be paid with the heart. Excerpt Auren's eyes didn't leave mine. He took a step forward, then another, just enough to draw closer without closing the distance completely. His movements were measured and elegant. Confident without the need to prove it. "I believe the state of my attire is acceptable, Callis," he said, voice low and smooth, a flicker of mischief curling at the corner of his mouth. His eyes gleamed—was it amusement, or something darker? The lead priest stepped forward again, drawing our attention back to him with a subtle lift of his hand. The scent of resin filled the space as one priest lit the offering fire. Smoke curled upward, sweet and sharp, as the brazier took its breath. When the priest then turned to me, "Come hither, and place your hand upon the staff." I moved. I didn't trust my legs, but they carried me. I stopped in front of Auren, lifted one hand, and set it lightly over his where he gripped the staff. It was warm. His skin. The staff. The silver. Everything felt charged. "Speak," the priest said, not unkindly. I drew breath. "I accept," I said. My voice was quiet, but it didn't shake. "I accept this bond. I come in truth, though I do not know what waits. I offer what I am, and will not turn away." The priests withdrew, leaving us alone. Auren's hand found mine again, warm and firm. We undressed each other slowly. Not ceremonially, though it felt like a ritual. Not erotically, though there was no mistaking the heat under my skin. It was like opening something fragile. Something wrapped for safekeeping. The silks they dressed me in shimmered like flame. When they stepped back, they studied me in silence, then bowed lightly. We stood bare, inches apart, the silk pooling at our feet. The altar waited behind him. I knew what it was meant for. But in this moment, there was no pressure. Only him. Only me. And the space between us, narrowing, breath by breath. Auren stepped toward me. There was no hesitation in his stride. He closed the space between us in a quiet step, and suddenly I could feel the warmth of him, closer than anyone had ever stood, close enough that our bodies brushed, whispering against each other in the stillness. He kissed me. Not gently. His mouth found mine like he'd done it a hundred times, firm and sure, his hands lifting with the same certainty to touch me. One framed the side of my jaw, his fingers a breath from trembling, the other settled low at my waist, grounding me, anchoring me to the moment. Heat bloomed through my skin like lightning seeking purchase. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't exploratory. It was fiercely possessive in a way that set fire to something deep inside me, something I hadn't even known was there. Auren kissed like someone who had no interest in surface things. He dove straight for the center. And I-- I didn't know what to do with that. My hands hovered, helpless for a moment, until instinct caught hold and I clutched at his sculpted arm. My fingers curled there, tense and searching, and my other hand rose to his shoulder as if I could brace myself against the storm building in my chest. Auren pressed closer. His lips parted slightly, just enough to pull me deeper, and my body responded before I could stop it—leaning in, opening, breath hitching in surprise at the feel of him. It was like I had been asleep for nineteen years and someone had finally whispered my name. When Auren finally drew back, he didn't go far. He studied me: my face, my breath, the tremble I couldn't hide in my fingers. "You're not what I expected," he said, his voice low and uneven at the edges. About the Author Tavian Cross is an emerging author of gay erotic fantasy romance. Obsessive fan-fiction reader, BL manga collector, and erotic steam engineer, Tavian is setting out to create a world where love has no boundaries, lust serves a higher purpose, and beauty is divine. Follow Tavian online for more heart-tugging content. Social Media Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram 
Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of three Print copies of Golden Bond upon release with special interior images, shipped directly by Amazon in any Amazon market. 
“Red leader to blue leader,” Lucas said into the end of the tie draped around his neck. He made a static sound deep in his throat and continued, “Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!” Forge stopped fighting with the wristband/transmitter Porter had insisted he wear and turned to Lucas. Declan, who stood on the opposite side of the room, met Forge’s gaze and shook his head. Blair made an entrance from the adjoining room. He held two ties up and asked Declan, “Which one?” “The dark green,” Declan said. “Why are you asking him?” Forge tried to sound offended, but apparently no one bought it. Declan rolled his eyes and Lucas snorted a laugh. Blair put the tie around his neck and folded his shirt collar over it. He asked Forge, “How many tuxes do you own?” “Uh. I…um. That’s what I have a dress uniform for,” Forge grumbled. Blair turned back to Declan and lifted his eyebrows. Declan smirked and said, “Three. All custom made.” He sighed and motioned Lucas closer. “Let me do that.” “What?” Lucas’s hand went to his now-knotted tie. “It’s in a bow. And I’m a package.” He glanced over his shoulder at Forge. “Please, we all know your idea of dressing up is clean jeans, socks with your shoes, and a shirt with buttons.” Declan’s shoulders sagged, and he muttered something in French Forge thought wasn’t very flattering, but he couldn’t remember the exact translation. After Lucas’s tie was in place and properly tied, Declan turned to Forge. “Now you. Come here. You’re not going out there looking like that.” “Yeah, about that. I’m sorry you’re all getting dragged into this. It’s not normal—” “We know,” Blair, Lucas, and Declan chorused. Declan gave both ends of Forge’s tie a yank and grumbled, “Jonas, stop fidgeting.” Forge shoved his hands into his pockets, huffed a breath, and managed to stand still for the minute it took Declan to adjust his tie and straighten his medals. “Thank you,” Forge said. When Blair snickered Forge glared at him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Blair nodded and pointed to his own, perfectly situated, tie. Forge mumbled, “Show off.” They had been assigned adjoining rooms in the hotel where the reception would take place in a few hours. The instructions were to prepare for the event at the hotel. Everything each of them carried had been scanned and searched. Forge thought the whole thing a little odd, but he hadn’t done anything of this nature since shortly after World War I and that time it was with military police, so what did he know? The work he and Declan occupied themselves with had been more along the lines of covert operations and with more than one agency. Sometimes more than one country. Forge shook off the feeling of impending calamity he’d been experiencing since the first meeting with Porter Samuels. None of this felt right, though Forge didn’t particularly feel in danger. There had been two more meetings with Samuels. One just he and Lucas attended, and then yesterday, one with all four of them. Lucas had inquired during both conferences about his reputation preceding him, and each time he’d been ignored. It had raised Forge’s hackles, and it was easy for him to see Declan had the same reaction. Lucas had some training through the police department, though he was more involved in crimes after the fact. Forge had been teaching Blair hand-to-hand combat techniques, but Blair was far from prepared to take on the types of situations Forge could foresee arising at this sort of event. He worried that if something serious went down, neither was terribly prepared. Not without Lucas using his wolf or Blair his vampire abilities, and Forge didn’t have confidence they’d be able to do that in this instance. Since many humans had no idea they existed, werewolves and vampires kept a low profile to avoid detection. Lucas called it hiding out in the open, and it was the truth. For close to a century and a half, when they weren’t at their home base of Boggslake, Forge and Declan had moved around. They’d join whatever side of a fight they agreed with, sometimes as soldiers, more often in the guise of intelligence or military investigative work. Forge worried for Declan’s safety, but not in the same way he did for Blair’s and Lucas’s. It was a fact Forge had learned long ago, vampires made great spies. Declan had joked more than once that it was as if vampires were made specifically for a secret-stealing life. Forge tended to agree for the most part, but there were notable exceptions. When it came to vampires like Blair, his opinion wavered. Blair was his soulmate, and Forge conceded, if only to himself, that his judgment was clouded because of their relationship. On the other hand, he’d learned many skills over the years. There was no reason a man as intelligent as Blair couldn’t learn them as well. They were as prepared as they were going to be for their final briefing from Samuels. Then they’d head downstairs to the main ballroom where the evening’s events would take place. “Damn, too bad you guys can’t see yourselves in this mirror. We look good.” Lucas drew the last word out as he peered in a large mirror over the dresser and brushed one hand through his brown hair. “What do we do now?” Blair asked. Declan settled in a chair and shrugged. “I guess we wait. Though if that man tells me one more time how much our country appreciates my sacrifice, I might have to sacrifice him.” Forge smiled when a few seconds later there was a sharp knock on the door. Declan looked at the ceiling and groaned softly as Forge mouthed the words, “He probably heard that.” Forge opened the door, stepped back, and waved Porter Samuels inside. A second man, slightly taller and beefier than Samuels, stood a step behind him, hands folded in front of him. He had crystal-blue eyes and short, blond hair with enough of a wave to make Forge think it would be very curly if it were longer. Like Samuels he wore a simple black suit, a wristband that matched the one given to Forge, the same type of earbud Forge was shown in his office, and the Secret Service lapel pin. A quick glance at Declan confirmed he saw the additional pin on the man’s suit coat right under the Secret Service one. Declan sat straighter in his chair and met Forge’s gaze for a split second before focusing on the man with Samuels. Blair was learning fast. His utter shock—felt by Forge—barely registered on his face. For once Lucas stood quietly. One vampire in the Secret Service, Forge could believe. But two? “Kai Richter is a member of my team,” Samuels explained. Forge held out his hand. “Jonas Forge.” Kai Richter was apparently the strong, silent type. His firm handshake was accompanied by a curt nod. Forge willed him to open his mouth and speak. He was prepared to bet the man had a German accent, or a fake American one. Kai smiled and stepped past Forge into the room. Declan didn’t move, but Forge saw him focus for a split second on a ring Kai wore before Declan stood and looked at Samuels. Samuels held a small object out to Forge. “You’re the only one here who will need one of these since all of the other local police here tonight are human and have the standard-issue earbuds.” Forge took the unit and held it in one hand. Samuels pressed one side of the device. “You activate it here. Keep it in and on the entire time.” Forge put the earbud in and waited. “Since I tend to stick out like a sore thumb, we’ll be close by, monitoring the room. Blend in and keep your eyes open.” “Uh-huh,” Forge muttered. He held up his wrist. “If I have this, why do I need an earbud?” Samuels smiled and Forge was sure it was meant to be reassuring, however, it verged on creepy. “We’re like Klingons, redundant systems as backup.” Lucas’s eyebrows shot up, and Declan folded his arms over his chest, looking more menacing than Forge had seen in years. Blair had slid behind them, turned partially away, and was looking down at his phone, no doubt scouring his sources for one Kai Richter. “Very good, then. Take up your positions downstairs in thirteen minutes,” Samuels said before any of them could speak. He turned on his heels, Richter right behind him, and left them alone again. “That ring is fifteenth century—Austrian, I think.” Declan moved to stand beside Forge while they both peered out the door. “Two vampires in the Secret Service?” Lucas sputtered.  Code Name Jack Rabbit is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.     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. He took a few deep breaths and opened his eyes, looking out the window. “Where are we going? Where are we now?” They’d just passed a mile marker on I-90 West, but Clint didn’t know the highway well enough to get much information from that. He and Griff had driven to the Black Hills in South Dakota and taken I-90, but he’d certainly not had any reason to memorize things like mile markers and landmarks. All he could say for sure was he wasn’t in Ohio any longer. The view would have been pleasant if he weren’t in his current predicament. The sky was deep blue, and it looked like early evening. On either side of the highway, fields of corn and wheat swayed in a lazy breeze. Finally Clint saw a sign announcing an upcoming town and the letters MN after the town’s name. There were the customary billboards advertising fast food restaurants, gas, and lodging at the next exit. In the side mirror, he could see the vehicle he was in: an old minivan with a bad paint job. “Unless you want me to piss all over your van, we need to stop.” Clint hated sounding so dramatic, but his bladder ached constantly now. Every little bump they sped over had him cringing, and the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself by losing control. He doubly hated resorting to begging. “Please.” Expression softening, Dylan glanced sideways at him. That gave Clint an idea. Griff’s voice saying cooperate echoed through his head. “I know how much you want to take care of me. I’ve always appreciated that about you. So, bathroom break and something to drink, okay?” Clint said quietly. “I’m sure you meant something you’ve always loved about me,” Dylan said. Clint looked down and nodded. “That’s what I meant. Sorry.” He closed his eyes tightly, then concentrated on not holding his breath when Dylan’s hand slid along his thigh once again. “I guess we can find a place to stop for a rest,” Dylan said. Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly and quietly, Clint struggled to compose himself and collect his thoughts. Dylan’s writing might have tanked after his second book was released—something that, looking back, Clint should have seen as a clue to the man’s mental state. What didn’t tank was Dylan’s ability to plan and research. He’d asked Clint plenty of questions, and they’d compared notes about police procedures over the last few years. It was likely he remembered Clint attended conventions such as GovSec with Griff. He’d also been asking about caving, extensive questions with the explanation he wanted to use the sport in a book. What Dylan, or any of his other friends, probably didn’t know was that Clint sat through seminars and talked to lots of security professionals. When Griff gave presentations, Clint had helped him, as well as others he worked with, to put information packets together and proofread their talks. Many times, Clint had heard discussions about hostage situations. He took some comfort in the fact he likely knew more than the average person about surviving something like this. Knowing details given out in a seminar and turning that knowledge into practical application, however, were two entirely different things. Jewel Cave is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and in French and Spanish.   NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: The Way You Lie (Isle of Kala, book one) Author: Crea Reitan Publisher: Dragon Fire Fantasy, LLC Cover Artist: Rebeca Covers Release Date: July 10, 2025 Tense/POV: first person, present tense, alternating POV Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance Tropes: Forbidden love, Age gap, Dad’s best friend, secret relationship Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: approximately 92 000 words It is a standalone story. It ends on a cliffhanger — not for this couple, but for the couple featured in the next book. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
Sometimes a happy ending comes with heartbreak. Blurb Sometimes a happy ending comes with heartbreak. Falling in love with my father’s best friend wasn’t on my to-do list. Yes, he’s hot. Sure, I’ve been flirting with him since I was sixteen. Of course I’d be down for a little fun. When Laiken begins returning my flirting, things get heated. It was supposed to be sexy summer fun and nothing more. We weren’t planning on making this a forever thing. But falling in love isn’t a choice. As it turns out, not everyone agrees and sometimes disapproval is loud, painful, and heartbreaking. *** This is a LGBTQIA+ story with content not intended for those under 18 years of age due to graphic scenes and situations. Excerpt I’m no stranger to Elijah Cain. I’ve seen him nearly every single day of his life since the moment he was conceived. His father, Nason, and I have been friends for over thirty years. He began flirting with me four years ago when he was in high school, and at the time, I found it nothing but amusing. He was a kid. He’s my best friend’s son. In a way, he felt like my nephew. But when he came home from college a few months ago, he’d suddenly stopped looking like a child to me. He was now an adult. Everything about him had grown up. And I’ve found that I really like every damn thing I see. He’s adorable. He looks so much like his father but with his mother’s Latina complexion. The combination of Miranda and Nason is simply breathtaking. I’ve always thought so. I’ve always thought that Elijah was an adorable child. Adorable has grown up into a man that never leaves my mind. His flirting hasn’t stopped. If anything, it’s increased. I’m not sure if he’s just a flirt or if it’s intentionally directed at me. Not that it matters. I can’t go there. That’s Nason’s kid! My best friend’s only child and the man whom I can’t stop thinking about day or night. About the Author Crea lives in upstate New York with her dog and husband. She has been writing since grade school and has a habit of creating secondary, and often tertiary characters that take over her stories. When she can’t fall asleep at night, she thinks up new scenes for her characters to act out. Social Media Links Website | Facebook | Instagram 
Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of the following: *One paperback (signed by author if domestic; from Amazon if outside US) of this release with PR pack swag (signed bookplate included if winner is international) *One of four PR swag packs *One of three ebooks from the author's backlist 
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