This week's teaser is from A Barlow Lens, book 2 of Circles. Wyatt twisted his torso and repeated his flexing and extending exercises of a few minutes ago. Hopefully between that and the effects of adrenaline, he’d be able to move and fight efficiently if the need arose. Val groaned again, louder this time. When Wyatt turned back to look at him, he saw Val lift one hand sluggishly to his forehead. He wasted no time getting back to Val’s side, setting the flashlight on the floor beside him. “God, Val, this is all my fault. I’m sorry. So sorry,” Wyatt said. He knelt and slipped one arm under Val’s shoulders, then helped him to sit up. “What are you…? How is…? Sorry for what?” Val rubbed his head and looked around. “We’re inside the storage unit.” “I lost my temper and threatened Kevin.” Val squinted at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you I thought that was hot?” Wyatt grabbed Val around the waist and hoisted him to his feet. “We gotta get outta here before he comes back. What do you remember?” “Uh, he shot you with a Taser. I guess that’s what it was. You looked like you were having a seizure.” Val’s face paled, and his voice trembled. “I think technically that’s what was happening.” Wyatt gave Val a squeeze and tried to laugh a little, but it came out weak. “I jumped Kevin from behind, which I found out too late was a bad idea. He’s like some ninja sumo wrestler. You guys are fuckin’ scary sometimes,” Val said. “You actually jumped on his back?” Wyatt asked. When Val nodded, Wyatt continued, “Don’t ever do that. You really just give your opponent the upper hand.” “Thanks, now you tell me. He had the advantage all right. I can kick ass virtually, but in real life, not so much.” Wyatt rubbed one hand over Val’s hair and pressed his lips to Val’s forehead. “You do perfectly.” They leaned on one another and crossed the few feet to the smaller of the two doors. Wyatt tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “Jammed or locked from the outside somehow. Let’s try the bay door, though I suppose that’s locked as well.” He tried to open the bigger door, but it was indeed locked. “Got your phone?” Wyatt let go of Val and patted himself down. “Mine is gone.” A Barlow Lens is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited. Right now the eBook is marked down $2.99 and the paperback to $6.99.
BLOG TOUR Book Title: Book of the Flower Garlands (Archaeologists in Love 1) Author and Publisher: Nikki Ali Release Date: November 16, 2021 Genre: Erotic M/M romance Tropes: Forbidden love, first times, age play Themes: Coming out, intimacy & vulnerability Length: 118 000 words / 347 pages Heat Rating: 5 flames It is not a standalone book. It is the first to be published in its series. It ends with a sort of “happily-for-now.” Buy Links A steamy MM erotic romance of first times & lush settings. Will these unlikely lovers find a way? Blurb Hassan Elsayed wants to find himself and follow his dreams--at fifty-four, he's about two decades too late, but who's counting, really? He's left his hometown of Luxor, Egypt for Athens, Greece, and fulfilled his lifelong dream of becoming a writer. Now, he's hungry for love. The woman he's loved for half his life has married someone else. When Hassan meets a beautiful nineteen-year-old boy one summer, their attraction and chemistry are instant, insistent, and impossible to ignore. But it's his first time with another man, and Hassan is terrified to step into this new fire. Will he let himself be engulfed by the flames? Will he open his heart to this unlikely love he never saw coming? Set in the lush, sun-drenched Mediterranean summer, to the backdrop of the ancient ruins of Athens, Book of the Flower Garlands weaves a warm, romantic story of sex, sensual pleasures, first loves and first times. Excerpt In the evening, Marco and I take a long, slow walk around Kolonaki as the sun is setting. My neighborhood is quiet, steep, cobblestoned. Some parts are narrow and rambling and old, some are lit up, gilt-edged, gleaming with signs for Prada and Gucci. There are trendy new restaurants and the older tavernas, like the one where I work. Young people are drinking cappuccinos at the coffee shops, tourists are taking endless photos of the sunset. I have tried to make this city home. We decide to walk up Mount Lycabettus. It’s often part of our morning running route, but then it is an opportunity for hill work, not a site for its own enjoyment. Tonight we take a leisurely pace. Children from a family of German tourists scramble up the hill around us. We stop to admire the intricate patterns on the doors of the church on Lycabettus, delicate black tracery on glass, illuminated from within by warm golden light. “These old churches almost make me wish I were Christian,” I tell Marco. “I see what you mean,” he says softly, his eyes traveling over the shape of the church, the little white dome on top and the crowning cross. On an impulse we decide to have dinner at the restaurant near the summit. “I’ve always wanted to eat here,” I say. “Then let’s eat here,” Marco says, shrugging. He stops. “Let me treat you.” “Sweetheart. You don’t have to.” “Let me. You’re always paying for stuff and cooking for me and taking care of me. Let me take you to just one dinner at a place you’ve always wanted to go.” “Okay,” I say. I’d say my Arab ancestors were turning in their sandy desert graves, but surely those venerable old men have long since abandoned me. I am head over heels for a boy less than half my age. Our breath is duly stolen by the view at our table, placed right at the edge of the mountain, beside a low stone wall. It’s twilight, and every moment the light flees, bleeding from the sky. That has its own bittersweet significance, but then, as the night grows blacker, the lights begin to glow to their fullest perfection. The neighborhoods are tiny handfuls of houses, each block outlined with veins of dark green summer trees. The lights are coming out like the stars we cannot see, like the lanterns the white-shirted waiters come out and set on each table. In the far distance we can see the softness of the sea, in the middle distance the magic radiance of the Parthenon sprawled on the acropolis. “My God,” Marco says. “I will remember this view for the rest of my life.” About the Author Nikki Ali creates high-quality erotica where love is for everyone, dreams come true, and sensuality is an integrated part of our life. Nikki is also the editor-in-chief of Mistress M's Community Publishing House (MMCPH), a new, boutique-style, full-service small publishing house founded on the principles that no matter what our hearts desire to create, there is an audience seeking it; that, by putting our work out into the world, our audience will find us; and that there IS space in the marketplace for the offerings of our hearts. Connect with Nikki on Instagram @mistressmwriter. Author Links Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest Newsletter Sign-up | Patreon | Amazon Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card Kevin motioned to Ian. “Better if we flip him over, I think. Colleen got a set last year. My new addiction,” Kevin said. He held up a finger and nodded at the bathroom. “Give me a second to wash up.” There are many more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Love and Lust along with the entire Pain and Pleasure series is available from JMS Books, Amazon and other online booksellers.
E.M. Hamill has a new queer space opera out (non-binary, gender fluid, pansexual, gay), The Dalí Tamareia Missions book 3: Third Front. And there's a giveaway. Dalí Tamareia has the terrorist Skadi in their sights – but bringing her in may cost them everything. Dalí’s role as an undercover operative is compromised, putting a target on their back and threatening the close-knit team aboard Thunder Child. A new lead on Miriam Skadi’s activities forces them back to Luna, where they must confront everything they tried to run from…including their changed relationship with Rion Sumner, who insists on backing up Dalí for this investigation. But Dalí is not the only one searching for Skadi. An alien presence hunts the terrorist as well, taking over Sumner's body to ensure Dalí’s cooperation. With their team on the other side of the solar system Dalí must depend on this questionable ally to complete the mission, which takes a deadly turn when an old nemesis resurfaces. If there is any chance for a future with Sumner and their chosen family, Dalí must exorcise the demons haunting them, or they will burn in the heart of a star. Warnings: graphic violence, grief, sexually explicit scenes About the Series: A diplomat turned galactic operative risks everything to bring in the terrorist who shattered their life. Get It At AmazonGiveaway E.M. is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47263/? Excerpt The flint-blue curve of Earth filled the transparent alloy of the windshield. Even gravely wounded, humanity's ancestral home was breathtaking. Phantoms of arid golden continents haunted breaks in the heavy cloud-cover; oceans glinted like winks of mercury in Sol's light. The atmosphere was beginning to clear, but it would take the surface longer to purge the toxic aftermath of war and pollution from soil and sea How in the seven hells did we manage to fuck up a whole planet? "Prepare for drop," Sumner murmured into his headset. I braced myself. "In five. Four. Three. Two ... " The magnet released us. Sumner fired top thrusters to quickly maneuver the ship away from the hull and we floated free. "We're clear." "See you soon," Ozzie said. Thunder Child left us in her wake, heading off to complete the surveillance mission. Sumner throttled the little craft into motion and carved an arc in space, putting the planet behind us. And there it was. The moon's disc swelled before us, painted in silver and ash. In the nightfall of Earth's passing shadow, the lunar plains of Mare Nubium sparkled with lights, and at the southern horn of the penumbra's crescent, where light and darkness embraced, lay the place I once called home. "Have you ever been to Luna?" My uneven voice betrayed the winding tension inside me. "No." Sumner glanced at me, but I kept my gaze on the moon, unable to meet his eyes. "I've only been to the major space stations before Mars. Where did you live?" "Kepler. You can just make out a hexagon of complexes north of the crater." "I see it." "The apex dome, Galileo, is where the Capitol is. The University is under Kepler, at the middle left. That's where ... where we ... " Memories lay bitter and sweet on my tongue, the ache in my throat a hot coal. Oh, coming back was such a bad idea. "The—" I coughed to clear the suffocating thickness from my voice. "The old city is in the industrial complex at the bottom of Bullialdus Crater, that cluster of rectangular structures near the shuttle port." A sparkle of transparent alloy and steel caught my eye as we got closer. My palms grew damp. Luna Terminal gleamed against the void of space. Intact, as if the explosion that shattered the Earthward docking arm and killed so many innocent people had never happened. As if my heart was still whole and strong, not the bruised piece of meat thudding too fast in my chest. The restored line of windows where Gresh and 'Sida once stood to bid me goodbye were blank and flawless. Empty. The spring-coil of anxiety suddenly exploded into shards and hollowed out my insides. I forgot to breathe, my white-knuckled fingers clenching the edge of the jump seat. Fuck Kiran Singh. No matter what Mother England wanted to tell me, I should never have agreed to come back. My breath ran shallow in the heavy gravity of blind panic. I fumbled with the stiff buckle of the five-point harness. "Dalí? You okay?" Sumner's quiet voice cut through the noise in my head. "I can't ... " The clasp wouldn't give, my sweat-slick fingers numb and buzzing. "God damn it! I need to get out of the cockpit." "Hey, hey." He extended his right hand and gently laid it over mine where I scrabbled at the release. "We're in Three. Where are you going to go?" I gave up trying and gripped his hand, pressing it against my chest. "I'm here," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Breathe. A deep breath. Come on, you can do it." I drew in a shuddering gasp, filled my lungs with air, and just as unevenly let it out. "Again." The second one was less painful. "I'm sorry," I managed to wheeze. "I didn't think it would hit me this hard." "You thought you were prepared. You weren't. Not yet." His hand was warm, and I hugged it like an anchor against the free-fall of chaos. I didn't let go until my breathing was closer to normal and I knew I wouldn't fall apart. His touch calmed me, and at the same time it created a ripple of longing I wasn't ready to deal with. That was finally what made me let go. "Thank you," I mumbled, releasing his hand with a sheepish press of gratitude, and scrubbed my wet eyes with my palms. It was the first episode in months since I'd started the meds. I was fiercely glad Thunder Child was out of our implanted coms' range and my teammates had not been remote witnesses to this meltdown. "I feel ridiculous." "Never feel that way." The gentle admonition made me glance up and meet his eyes. Aquamarine sparks snapped in the depths of his irises as he held my gaze. "What you witnessed can't be processed all at once. It comes out in pieces because it's too much." "That felt like a huge chunk." But the empty space had begun to collapse on itself. The void softly filled with a new substrate and covered the scree of old trauma as we stared at each other. Once again, Rion Sumner showed me the side I wanted to know better, and I desperately wanted to know it when I wasn't a fucking mess he had to prop up. "Port Armstrong to approaching vessel." Three's com blared as Luna Station's control center registered our presence. The emotionless mechanical voice in our headsets startled both of us. "Verify identity and destination." Sumner toggled his mic with what I swore was irritation. "Port Armstrong, Midak 3 requesting approach." "Midak 3, transmitting approach vectors," the artificial controller's voice replied. The instrument panel came alive with lights and coordinates. Auto-piloting sequences blinked suggestively on the data screen. Of course, Sumner chose to pilot Three manually, our moment of connection sublimated into preparation to enter lunar airspace. I silently cursed the cock-blocking AI running the tower and sat back to watch him guide our little craft into the deep well of Bullialdus Crater, a bright path of syncopated flashes leading us into the underground terminal. The small, rocking thump of landing sent a shiver through me. Luna. The people who had made it my home no longer existed, yet here I was. Author Bio Elisabeth "E.M." Hamill is a nurse by day, unabashed geek, chocoholic, sci fi and fantasy novelist by nights, weekends, and wherever she can steal quality time with her laptop. She lives with her family in the wilds of eastern suburban Kansas, where they fend off flying monkey attacks and prep for the zombie apocalypse. Author Website: https://emhamill.wordpress.com Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/EMHamill Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/songmagick Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16592440.E_M_Hamill Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/e-m-hamill/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B00JY0FV8S Looking for some great stories to spend the weekend with? Look no farther! The eBook is 50% off at $2.99 and the paperback is marked down to $9.99! Always available in Kindle Unlimited! Find a new author!
My teaser this week is from Scintilla, book one of El Corazon. Brandon hadn’t moved, other than to position his arms to use as a pillow for his cheek. Raul smeared the lotion liberally over Brandon’s back and spent a few minutes massaging his shoulders then worked his way down to the swell of Brandon’s ass where he repeated the movements. “Oh, damn, that’s almost as good as the sex,” Brandon said in a low, slightly slurred voice. “Thank you. I do aim to please.” Raul finished the massage then said, “You’re a scintilla.” Brandon rolled over and eased to a sitting position, flinching. “Is it a problem I didn’t tell you?” Raul shook his head. “Nah. I was surprised, but I’ll admit you’re one of the best clients I’ve had. That was different, surprising and…very enjoyable.” Brandon smiled shyly. “Thanks. A lot of people are afraid to even hug me without wearing all sorts of rubber gear, let alone more. They think they’ll get electrocuted.” Snagging bottles of water from a crate beside the bed, he handed one off to Brandon. Raul sensed that Brandon was a person who craved physical affection with an emotional connection. Having people think they needed to keep him at a distance must’ve been very painful for him. “That’s sad. I might ask before swimming with you, but—” He had other questions, but didn’t think it was appropriate unless they’d be spending more time in bed together. Brandon burst out laughing. He expression changed in a split second to one of horror when he glanced over Raul’s body. “Holy crap, what happened to you?” Raul looked down and sighed. His thigh sported a spectacular bloom of purple. “The reason I was late.” “Your previous appointment did that?” “This is my family business.” Raul waved his bottle in a circle, indicating the room they were in. “I have my own gig as a bounty hunter. Sometimes I track down straying spouses or runaway kids. My previous appointment was a centaur who took exception to me trying to bring him in after he jumped bail.” “You know, you shouldn’t come at them from behind, they kick.” Raul snorted but resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Thank you.” “Did you get him?” Brandon asked. “I did.” Raul nodded. “Hurts like a bitch. Fortunately, I’d partially shifted to catch the mother-fucker, or he’d have broken my leg.” He tried not to wince but failed when he eased into a more comfortable position. “Good job.” Brandon inched closer and held out his water bottle in a toast. Raul tapped the neck of his bottle to Brandon’s. With his other hand, Brandon reached out, letting his fingertips hover over Raul’s thigh. “May I?” Not sure what Brandon was asking to do, but curious enough to want to find out, Raul nodded once. Scooting even closer, Brandon held one hand over Raul’s thigh, fingertips pointed down. A blue haze formed along Brandon’s fingers and inched toward Raul’s skin like a tiny curtain dropping. “There are medical machines that use electricity to help healing.” Brandon explained. He shrugged and brushed his fingers along Raul’s leg with a feather light touch. “I can mimic those.” Raul’s leg tingled in a very pleasing way. As Brandon moved his hand the pain Raul was feeling lessened and bled away. “Wow,” Raul said. Scintilla is available in eBook, paperback
and through Kindle Unlimited. This month the eBook is 50% off at $2.99. The paperback is marked down to $9.99. |
Welcome to My World
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