 This week's snippet is from Quarry, book 2 of The Vampire Guard.  “So, I set a fake screen that shows the network, counting down just like when we saw it. He can’t, however, regulate anything from this phone, and unless he’s very good, he won’t be able to access the real network control,” Blair explained. “My decoy will record anything he does, so we might get the passcode. Fortunately for us it’s just a code and not fingerprint access.” “Fingers can be cut off,” Declan said nonchalantly. Forge shook his head and glanced at the floor, smiling. Lucas raised his eyebrows and met Blair’s gaze, looking as surprised as Blair felt. “And you’ll have a reason to get close to him, which means we’ll all have a way to get to him,” Lucas added.  Read more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Quarry is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.
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Book Title: He Should Be Mine Author, Publisher, Cover Artist: Jessica Jackman Release Date: August 21, 2025 Tense/POV: 1st person present. Alternating (but not every other chapter) Genres: MM Dark Mafia Tropes: Grumpy/sunshine, opposites attract, forced proximity, rich/poor, age gap, gay awakening Themes: A boy who needs a firm hand. slow burn, hurt/comfort Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 98 000 words It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. HEA ending. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
The only man I want is the one man I can’t have. Blurb The only man I want is the one man I can’t have. Molly is beautiful. Feisty. Sensual. Passionate. A pretty boy who knows his trade. He is also the very epitome of high-maintenance. Rude. Stroppy. Always aiming to unnerve people with his brazen words and attitude. It makes me want to hold him tight and show him he doesn't need to put on an act. Not with me. But he belongs to my boss. And when your boss is a mafia capo, that’s a line you do not cross. My role is to guard Molly. Keep him safe. Stop him running away. Prevent anyone from knowing my boss has a boy. I’m not supposed to crave him. I’m just supposed to watch him. Day after day. Night after night. Watch and never touch. I'm his jailer. He's my damnation. Excerpt Dinner at the Don’s house is an ordeal in elegance. Thirty guests, minimum. Crystal glasses. Heavy silverware. Tablecloths starched to within an inch of their lives. Every dish is served in silence by liveried staff. The conversation, meanwhile, is a performance. Layered with veiled insults, careful compliments, and too many toasts to “La Famiglia.” I’ve never eaten so slowly in my life. I chew, I nod, I make the right small talk with the man beside me, a consigliere from Rome who keeps eyeing me like I’m a chess piece he didn’t plan for. This is a promotion. I know that. Being at this table means I’ve moved from the outer circle, to somewhere near the fire. Everyone here notices. Including me. I wonder, not for the first time, what Riccardo did to piss his father off this badly. The Don doesn’t hand out invitations like this without a reason. And he doesn’t give second chances. Dessert arrives. Something chocolate and tiny and French. I haven’t taken a bite when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I slip a hand under the table and glance at the screen. Molly. I press decline. My pulse quickens. The phone buzzes again. Molly. Calling again. “Do you need to take that?” the Don asks from the head of the table. The conversation dies. Thirty heads turn toward me. I force a smirk and clear my throat. “No, just my girl wanting attention.” Laughter ripples down the table. Someone snorts. Another guest lifts his glass in mock salute. “Then yes,” the Don says smoothly, swirling his wine. “You should take it.” “Happy wife, happy life,” someone else chimes in. More laughter. I flash a grin I don’t feel and push back my chair. “Excuse me for a moment.” I stride out of the room and into the hallway. The phone buzzes again, and I answer just as I reach the front door. “This better be good.” “Don’t be mad at me,” Molly slurs. There’s noise behind him, bass-heavy music, voices raised. My chest tightens. “Where are you?” I snap, already furious and terrified. “I don’t know.” “What do you mean, you don’t know?” “I was just gonna have a quick drink,” he says, voice dragging. “Be back before you. But you know how it is… just the one is never just the one.” “Molly. Where are you?” “I don’t know. I met these guys. They bought me drinks. Then they were like, ‘let’s check out this new bar’ and we all piled in an Uber.” He hiccups. Giggles. “Now they’re getting all handsy, which I don’t mind in exchange for free drinks, but Rick’s gonna be pissed and he might blame you…” “You’re with these assholes now?” “I’m in the girls’ loo.” “Don’t move,” I bark. “Don’t you move a fucking inch until I get there.” I hang up and run, not bothering to hide it. As I round the corner of the house, I pass a woman in a slinky black dress lighting a cigarette. “Give the Don my apologies!” I shout, not slowing. It’s a terrible idea. You don’t run out on the Don’s dinner. But I don’t care. I unlock my car, leap in, and pull up the app I never told Molly I installed, the one that tracks his phone. His dot flickers in Soho. I gun the engine. Peel out onto the road. The tires screech, and I don’t give a damn. I love this car. But Molly needs me. About the Author Coffee, spicy books, and a profound disrespect for tomorrow (aka reading until four in the morning). My three favorite things. I write the kind of stories that keep you up way too late, while squealing, kicking your feet, and falling hopelessly in love with your new book boyfriend (or two... I don’t judge). Grab that triple-shot brown sugar shaken espresso. Trust me, we’re both going to need it. My debut novel, He Should Be Mine, hits shelves in August 2025. Let’s spread those pages. Love, Jessica Jackman. Books to ruin your sleep schedule and raise your standards. Social Media Links 
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 Declan paced back and forth a few times before coming to a stop next to Blair and Forge. “I guess I’ll say it. The construction site was rigged to implode. It wasn’t simply a test of first responder time and the ability to scramble their signals. It was also an assessment of their networking and equipment.” “We’ll contact you as soon as we’re in the apartment building.” Sayyna tucked one of the radios into her bag, nodded, and turned, leaving the room. Maisy had a second radio and Lucas and Forge the other two. “Meet you there, love,” Dane said. “How much time in the countdown?” Palle’s voice was in Blair’s ear too. “Just under two hours,” Blair said. “If it doesn’t speed up or slow down.” “It takes time and planning to set up for an implosion. The equipment must be well hidden,” Forge pointed out. “Or blends in with the surroundings so no one takes notice,” Lucas added. “It’s also possible not all the buildings are set up to implode. An old-fashioned explosion will cause as much havoc,” Declan said. “How come it didn’t show up on your tracking app?” Forge asked. “They weren’t active until just now,” Blair explained. He looked at Lucas. “Can you smell explosives?” “I might if I knew what they smelled like. It’s certainly worth a try,” Lucas said. “If those are online, they’re attached to something electronic, right?” Blair nodded. “Electronics give off sound,” Lucas pointed out. “Between your nose and my ears, we might be able to find them,” Declan said. “First Blair has to contact Varian. If he needs help, he might just give up where they’re placed and what they look like,” Forge said. Blair nodded. He picked up the phone and called Varian. “If this was a test, it wasn’t very hard. Any hacker worth their salt could crack this phone,” Blair said. “True, but I’m not working with any hacker. I’ve decided to work with you.” “I’m guessing since all these signals are networked, this is some sort of trap or distraction,” Blair said. “Bright boy.” Forge wrote on a piece of paper and showed it to Blair. “Why all the different places? I get the hotel, not the others,” Blair said into the phone. “I’d think it would be obvious. There are only so many resources—fire trucks, ambulances—available,” Varian said. Blair could picture the smug smile on his face. “You’re going to kill people,” Blair said softly. “Stealing is one thing. Mass murder is altogether different.” “People die. Once the first site goes off, the hotel will close down the exhibit. Everything will be loaded into a truck and moved off-site,” Varian explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Bring me the phone.” “Where?” Blair asked. “The exhibit hall, and don’t think I won’t find you and kill you if you don’t follow my instructions.” Forge wrote another note for Blair. “I’ll have to ditch the woman I was working with. It’ll take me some time,” Blair said. “You have thirty minutes. One minute late and you won’t live to see the end of the day.” The line went dead. Blair’s gaze shifted to Forge. Despite how dry his mouth was, he managed to swallow down the burning feeling working its way up from his stomach. Forge patted his shoulder, then squeezed reassuringly before moving back a few steps and giving Blair room to work. “You and I’ll head down to the parking level, check it and the sublevels underneath to locate the devices in the hotel,” Declan said to Lucas. “Maisy and I’ll go to the shopping center. If we can’t find and disarm those things, we can at least get the place cleared out,” Palle said through their earbuds. “There’s no underground level, at least not that we saw, in the shopping center,” Blair said. “Were you looking for one?” Lucas asked. “No, we weren’t,” Forge said. “Once he has the phone, he’s going to have control of the network that controls the explosives.” Blair held up one finger. “Gotcha covered. This might not stop him, but it’ll slow him down. I just need a little time.” “Do you have access to whatever information your father might have kept on Varian?” Forge asked suddenly. “His personal stuff?” Blair asked as he worked on the phone. “Yeah. Not his official FBI notes and whatever he kept on those investigations. I don’t even know what most the cases he worked on were.” “It won’t matter. He had files on Varian. Can you send them to the local cops? Minus the parts about building special faerie-catching equipment or anything falling into the weird and unbelievable category?” Forge asked. Blair stopped what he was doing and met Forge’s gaze again, a smile spreading over his face when Forge raised his eyebrows and nodded. “There’re no pictures. They’ll think it’s the man they have in custody already.”  Quarry is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.      BOOK BLAST 
Book Title: Interview with the Tarot Reader Author: Kathy Kaye Publisher: Vanguard Press, Cambridge, UK Cover Artist: Image licensed from Adobe Publishers Release Date: May 29, 2025 Genres: Contemporary F/F Romance, Slightly Speculative Tropes: Intrigue, romance, spiritual insight, wisdom of the universe Themes: Human connection and loss, coincidence and destiny, self-discovery Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 40 000 words/201 pages It is Book 1 of 3. Books 2 and 3 are being written. Book 2, The Tarot Connection, will be published in mid 2026. This book ends on a cliffhanger. Buy Links 
A captivating tale of love, fate, and the power of the unknown. Blurb In the heart of San Francisco, two strangers find themselves inexplicably connected in a moment that transcends time and space. As they navigate this unexplainable bond, they are drawn into a world of mystery and self-discovery that will change their lives forever. Interview with the Tarot Reader weaves a captivating tale of love, fate, and the power of the unknown. Join Marie Cameron, a renowned tarot card reader, as she delves into the depths of the human soul and uncovers the secrets that lie within. With a blend of intrigue, romance, and spiritual insight, this novel will leave you questioning the boundaries of reality and the true nature of connection. Interview with the Tarot Reader is a mesmerizing journey, where the answers you seek may be found in the most unexpected of places. Excerpt “Welcome, viewers. My name is Cole Hardigan with San Francisco at Night. We are delighted to have a special guest with us this evening, Tarot Card Reader Marie Cameron. “Marie, thank you for being here.” Marie smiled. “My pleasure.” She felt her heart flutter, nervous as she sometimes became at the beginning of an interview or mingling in the public eye. “As many of you are aware, Marie is a well-respected tarot reader, lecturer, and writer here in the Bay area. And she is a celebrity in her own right, with more than thirty years’ experience reading tarot cards for the famous as well as the infamous, the ordinary as well as the quite extraordinary. “Marie has just published her best-selling memoir, The Messages of Tarot: Keys to an Intentional Life, which details her years and the people she has met practicing her profession. “So, let us begin.” He tuned to his subject. “Marie, several years ago you experienced what you describe in your book as the defining moment in your career, in which you helped two young adults come to an understanding of an event, an occurrence that is ‘not of this world.’ This event, this connection between the two individuals, is so rare, you say, that it is often not discussed.” Marie: “That is correct.” Cole: “We want to open up that world tonight. Can you explain for us just what it was that happened?” Marie: “Yes, of course.” She folded her hands and began. “I had the good fortune of meeting two individuals of different races, ages, genders who met by chance on a San Francisco sidewalk and instantly connected or, more accurately, reconnected, experiencing a bonding between them that, as you described, is not of this world. This type of connection with another has been defined in tarot literature as of another realm, but of a connected realm that is the entirety of the universe.” Cole: “But how does it occur, this so-called connection?” Marie: “It is when time and motion stop. There are no decades, no centuries, no millennia. There is nothing that separates one period in time from another. People describe the first recognition of a connection as time standing still and a continuum of being. What was, is. And will be. What this connection brings is peace within oneself and with another beyond anything imaginable.” Cole: “Can you talk about that a bit more? About the peace you mention?” Marie: “My understanding is that it is a feeling of oneness, of knowing, and finally of understanding the universe. And oneself.” Cole: “Some might say this is heading into woo-woo territory.” Marie smiled. “The closest I can describe it is the sense of grace and peacefulness that occurs for some within their religion.” Cole: “So tarot is religious then?” Marie paused, having been asked this question many times. “Tarot is a pathway that may lead to understandings that certainly could be construed as spiritual and, yes, religious.” Cole: “I see. Has tarot been that way for you?” Marie hesitated again, the question personal. “I found answers within tarot that I did not find anywhere else. And that occurred because tarot helped me reframe and refine my own questions about life. It can help others do the same. “For example, the question ‘Will I be rich?’ can be rephrased to ‘Will I find wealth in a way I had not anticipated.’ That question opens possibilities, redefining wealth as not just about money. For some individuals, monetary wealth is not an answer. It really shouldn’t be a question.” Cole: “Thought provoking. Getting back to the two individuals, what did their so-called connection do for them?” Marie: “It gave them an awareness of their place in time and to one another that will be unending and unbroken.” Cole: “Did you believe, at first, that this connection had actually occurred?” Marie: “I did.” Cole: “How is it you came to be associated with them?” About the Author Kathy Kaye is a former writer and editor for the American Medical Association, Harvard Medical School, and Virginia Mason Medical Center in Seattle. She received a degree in English Literature from Illinois State University and completed a certificate in Wine Technology at South Seattle College’s Northwest Wine Academy. For many years she was co-owner of a small vineyard in eastern Washington State. She resides in Shoreline, Washington. Kaye is currently writing two story series: the Warehouse Winery Mystery series, a police procedural, set in Woodinville, Washington, where, in real life, she sold winemakers the grapes she grew; and the Tarot Reader series. Interview with the Tarot Reader is book one of three in this series. Book two, The Tarot Connection, will be published in 2026. 
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 Tom smiled at the response. His students immediately perked up, and a few began talking excitedly, offering ideas. He’d barely gotten them settled again when one of the girls asked, “Mr. Manning, what is that smell?” As soon as the girl’s words were spoken, it seemed as if the room filled with a noxious smell. It was the kind that left a bad taste in your mouth. Tom strode to the windows and began opening them. He turned to the class and said, “Everyone stay seated. I’ll see—” The sound of breaking glass was followed almost immediately by what Tom thought was some kind of explosion and loud crashing of metal against the floors of the hall. Yanking the door of his classroom open, Tom was assaulted by heat, thick, dark smoke, and an acrid odor. All at once there were screaming, panicked children trying to flood out the door and into the hall, which was already cloudy with smoke. Read more amazing snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group.  A Barlow Lens is available in eBook, paperback
and through Kindle Unlimited. Daniel did what any self-respecting man would do when he’d broken up with the absolute love of his life, shoved him away, literally, and drove off. He got drunk. Not just any drunk, no, he got himself rip-roaring plastered. The half a case of beer he and Kyle had at home lasted about twenty minutes before he cracked open the hard stuff. As the alcohol haze pickled his brain, Daniel asked himself what he had done. Things he’d vowed never to do, that was what. He’d broken rule number one and let himself get involved. As if that weren’t bad enough, he’d abandoned Kyle. Left him alone and confused. In the entire time Kyle had been with him, never once had Daniel left him alone. Once in a while, nightmares still plagued Kyle, reliving his abduction and flight for freedom. Daniel had promised to protect Kyle, keep him safe and love him. Great job he was doing since he’d now left Kyle alone and unprotected in a place he wasn’t entirely sure was safe. Why wasn’t the barracks safe for Kyle? The booze swirled slowly over Daniel’s mind and he tried to put together little things that had been bugging him for weeks, maybe months now. The missions they’d been sent on. How long it’d taken others to accept Kyle, how some had taken to him right away. Nothing made sense and Daniel knew he’d dismiss these thoughts when he was sober. Which didn’t look to be anytime soon. He’d passed out and come to again, washing the bottom-of-a-bird-cage taste from his mouth with a half-bottle of whiskey. His phone rang a few times, Kyle and then Pierre trying to reach him. He’d ignored them. Once he had his belongings packed, he’d go back to the barracks and have Keller ship him off somewhere else. Preferably a place without strays for him to take in and love. When it was Sally’s number on his caller ID, he answered. The next sound was a semi-automatic being fired outside his building, which had him jumping out of his skin and falling off the couch. A couch he’d made love to Kyle on so many times he’d lost count. “What the—?” Daniel clambered to his feet and stumbled at the window. “Sorry, Sally, are you—?” More gunfire and then someone, not Sally, was shouting at him on the phone. “You goddamn, stupid, pigheaded moron. Get your ass down here now before I come up there!” That was Pierre. He looked out the front window; Pierre was indeed standing on the beach just outside the fence. “You seem a little agitated.” “Now, you stupid fucker!” This time he aimed the weapon at the building, firing. Instinctively Daniel ducked away from the window, but the bullets pinged off the brick above them. Daniel opened the window. “Stop that! Gimme a minute.” More falling down the stairs than walking down them, Daniel made his way outside, unlocked the fence, and waved Pierre inside its perimeter. That was when Pierre drew back an arm and landed a solid, large fist right in Daniel’s face. Staggering backward, he fell, ass hitting the sandy ground hard. Pushing up on one hand, Daniel rubbed his chin with the other. “What the hell? My life is none of your—” Pierre strode forward, grabbed Daniel’s shirt collar and hauled him to his feet… then punched him again. This time Daniel slid a few feet after his ass hit the sand. “Stop that!” He scrambled to his feet and backed up when Pierre took a few steps toward him. “Are you sober?” Pierre’s voice was still raised, but he seemed less violent. Brushing sand off his jeans, Daniel looked at the man and mumbled, “More than I was ten minutes ago.” Pierre took a few deep breaths and glanced back at the van Daniel now saw parked a few yards away. “It was a set up. The whole thing, that’s why your team didn’t find anything. There was never anything to find.” “What?” “It was an inside job. We’ve got a mole.” Daniel stood and blinked stupidly at his friend, trying to wrap his head around what Pierre was saying. His gaze shifted to the van, looking for signs of Kyle. He suddenly needed to know if Kyle was alright. A cold shiver slithered up his spine. Then Pierre said the words Daniel never expected. “The first suspect was Kyle. Keller said it was out of his hands. He turned Kyle over to the government.” “He—” Daniel’s lungs deflated and his head spun. “Why?”  Strays is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.      Declan used the ladder and climbed down into the airlock. The room wasn’t very big, six foot by six foot at the most. He touched his earbud, activating it, and made sure the transmitter with the range extender in his wristband was switched on. “Are you reading me?” he asked. “We are. The hatch is being closed, the boat has to release the docking clamps,” Porter said. “Understood,” Declan replied quietly. He inhaled deeply and let it out very slowly when he felt the panic from the realization of what Porter was saying rocketed through Lucas. “Hey, hey, Lucas, it’ll be okay. This sub can’t be locked to that thing until he’s inside. If it…” Jonas’s voice faltered, and it took a few seconds for him to continue. “If it blows and the boat is still attached, it could drag it down too.” “Well, I’d rather die,” Lucas’s voice sounded wet. “You can’t make that decision for everyone on this submarine,” Ori added. It hit Declan then, what part of Ori’s role was in all this. Like Jonas, Ori knew a great deal about how werewolves thought, their pack structures, and reading their emotional states. Declan knew Lucas, understood him because of their bond. Jonas and Ori had come by that information in an entirely other way. They could keep Lucas focused and if the need arose, see each other through a tragedy. Declan couldn’t express how much he hoped that wasn’t necessary. “You do remember we can’t see you on this monitor, so maybe talk,” Jonas groused. Declan chuckled. “I do always appreciate how you keep my mood light. Sorry. There is a touch screen but no window in the airlock door, so I can’t see directly out into the passageway, I’m adjusting the room lighting now. It’s pretty basic in here. There’s a keypad, a few walls, and the touch screen that shows an image of the passageway outside the door.” “Oh, that’s great. Have vampires in a facility that has cameras but no direct line of sight through doors,” Ori grumbled. “Brilliant.” “Someone didn’t really think things through,” Jonas added. Declan could picture the sarcastic expression Jonas likely wore. “Lowering lights and examining the keypad under the filtered light.” Declan used the light on his phone to slowly scan the buttons. He cycled through several of the filters before very slight changes in the metal became obvious. Barking a short laugh, Declan said, “Don’t ever try to con a conman.” “Do you have something?” Lucas asked. His voice, as were his nerves, was much steadier. “One of the keys has been used repeatedly and the others are all the same,” Declan confirmed. Blair snickered. “One of these things is not like the other.” “Let’s get this show on the road.” Declan turned off his phone and pocketed it, then adjusted the lighting in the room so it was brighter once again. He held his breath and pressed the button. There was a click and something inside the keypad turned. The next sound was a pop, another softer click, and the keypad swung open on hinges. Inside was a simple handle. “What’s going on?” Sophia asked. “We were right. There is a handle concealed by the keypad. I’ll open it now.” Deep breaths, steady hands. Declan closed his eyes for a few seconds and gripped the handle. He was completely prepared to hear the sound of the compartment being blown away from the main part of the facility and water rushing in. He wondered how long he’d be coherent for before the pressure crushed his skull. Declan turned the handle. There was a whoosh and he started. “What was that?” Several voices said in his earbud. Declan opened his eyes and laughed. “The door opening.” He turned and leaned against the hull, letting his head thump back. He stood there taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly. A gentle bump signaled the submarine reestablishing the lock. When the upper hatch opened, Declan looked up, and gave a thumbs up, smiled, and pointed to the open door. “Put that on.” Lucas leaned through the hatch and dropped the hazmat suit down to Declan’s waiting hands. He took off the holster, setting it on the floor and began to step into the suit, glancing out the door to the passageway at the same time. Something moved, so fast and jerky Declan barely had the chance to focus on it before it was gone. “What the—?” Declan exhaled. In the next instant he was slammed sideways, hitting the floor hard on his side. Someone, Lucas, and Porter he thought, shouted in his ear bud, “Go, go!” Sheer instinct had Declan scrambling to get up, both arms up and on the defensive. Solid brown eyes stared him down and someone, male, Declan was sure, grabbed at his throat, jaws snapping, screaming at him. Declan clearly saw fangs—a vampire. Something yellow and large streaked down through the opening and grabbed the attacking vampire from behind. “Hey!” Jonas hollered. With both arms around the man’s chest, Jonas shouted and yanked him back and farther away from Declan. Declan bounced to his feet and snatched up his Taser. The man Jonas held twisted his upper body while kicking furiously. His movements sent Jonas stumbling backward, hitting the outer wall. The hazmat suits were slightly slippery, and Jonas lost enough of his grip that the man shimmied away from him. In the next instant the guy was lunging at Jonas, slapping at him, arms flailing in a pinwheel motion. Jonas pulled back and even with the face shield in place Declan saw his utterly shocked expression. He gasped softly, blinked a few times, took one ultra-fast step forward then cranked back one arm and punched the vampire square in the face. Their assailant dropped like the proverbial stone to the floor. “Will you put the damn suit on?” Jonas snapped. “I need somewhere to take this guy.”  Endosymbiont is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.    BLOG TOUR - NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: The Care of Broken Things Author and Publisher: October Arden Release Date: August 1, 2025 Tense/POV: Third person, past tense, single POV Genres: Contemporary MMM prison romance (leans into literary with a strong romantic core) Tropes: Grumpy/sunshine, found family, hurt/comfort, healing from grief, obsessive devotion, fake dating, prison husband, marriage of convenience, wrongfully imprisoned, morally gray characters, polyamory that heals Themes: Trauma recovery, self-loathing to self-worth, redemption through love, the violence of tenderness Heat Rating: 2 out of 5 Length: 82 000 words/320 pages It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
Some loves rewrite your sentence Blurb Samuel has spent years building walls. Excerpt Twenty minutes later he kicked Eli’s bed. It had been a day and a half since the library incident, and he hadn’t spoken a word to him since. He’d thought Eli’s perseverance would continue, but maybe the man was learning about personal space. He knew he ought to be happy about that, but the change unnerved him. He didn’t like things that didn’t come with explanations. Eli didn’t open his eyes. “Hi, Samuel.” “How’d you know it was me?” “Your particular brand of hospitality.” The man paused. “Also, you smell like Reese’s cups.” “You can smell that from here?” He took a somewhat discreet sniff of himself, but all he could detect was the shitty prison detergent. “Hunger sharpens the sense.” He was appalled. “You still haven’t—It’s been 48 hours!” “I’ve done 100 hour fasts before.” That boggled the mind. “Why?” “To rest my gut after glutenings, mostly,” Eli said. “Why is it that you can ask questions of me, but won’t answer any of mine?” True to form, he ignored the question and upended his new purchases onto the bed. Eli’s eyes sprang open. “What—” “No more fasting.” Eli picked up one of the packages on his chest. Sardines. “They’ve got Omega 3’s, right? That’s good for inflammation. There’s some salmon there, too, in those pouches.” Eli sat up. Packages and pouches slithered off him and onto the bedspread. Suddenly nervous, Samuel found himself rambling. “I wasn’t sure if your commissary account was up and running yet, and the stuff I gave you before were things you couldn’t eat, so I—” The man was smiling. Not smirking, not grinning—and Samuel knew he was in trouble. “You’re amazing,” Eli said, as if he hadn’t just ruined a man’s life. “Thank you. And you’re right. My commissary account still isn’t linked up yet.” As if that wasn’t enough, Eli then swept a space clear on the bed and pointed his invitation. It was the smile Samuel would blame later. He sat where indicated, more pliant and cooperative than he’d ever been in his life. Eli was impressed. “This is a better haul than I was expecting. I might actually survive on this.” Samuel was beginning to come back to himself. It was easier now that Eli was sorting through the food, like the spell of that smile had been broken—or at least weakened. “Who’s Nathaniel?” Eli flashed him a grin. “My murderer-hating husband.” He ripped open a bag of trail mix. “Don’t suppose I could trouble you to eat the M&M's out of these for me?” He expected the man to dig in, but Eli only ate an almond, a cashew, and a peanut before setting the package down. That broke his brain a little. “Aren’t you hungry?” Eli brought the pouch of sardines up to his mouth and ripped it open with his teeth. “Labels are useful, but they’re not foolproof. If I haven’t reacted in half an hour, I’ll eat a little more.” Samuel knew that if he’d gone more than two days without food, he’d have gnawed his own leg off. “Why didn’t you come to me?” “Hmm?” “You knew you couldn’t eat what I bought you, and you knew they’d continue to keep screwing up the special meal thing. So why didn’t you come to me? We could have done this two days ago.” Eli fished a sardine out with his fingers. The slimy things looked repulsive, and the smell alone was enough to knock someone out. Eli caught him staring and tilted the pouch toward him. “Pardon my rudeness. Would you like some?” He had to swallow bile. “Your husband’s never going to kiss you again.” About the Author October Arden writes emotionally raw queer stories that live somewhere between literary fiction and romance. Their work explores fluid identities, found families, co-dependent devotion, and complicated love—often through the lens of characters who are chronically ill, neurodivergent, or quietly self-destructive. These are stories for anyone who's ever felt unwanted or unseen, where even the most damaged hearts can find a home. Author Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram 
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 Wyatt arrived ten minutes early, carrying several bags that had wonderful smells wafting out of them. Val made himself busy setting out the food while Wyatt and Janelle sat in the living room, making very uncomfortable small talk. “Dinner’s ready,” Val said from the doorway of the kitchen. He jerked one thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll just…I should leave you—” “No!” Janelle and Wyatt said together. Janelle stood up and hopped toward the kitchen. “I’m hungry. This smells great. Let’s eat. Val, you need to eat too.” “Maybe you could tell us your side of what happened?” Val said, looking from Janelle to Wyatt after they were seated and eating. Wyatt put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. “You saw that everything I sent was returned. I never stopped trying. Your mother asked me to stay away, and I tried to honor her wishes.” “Because of Oliver?” Janelle asked. “Partially,” Wyatt said. Read more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group.  Run for the Roses is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited. This week the Circles box set is only $6.99 for all five books!
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