J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer sci fi collection out: Androids & Aliens. And there's a giveaway. Androids & Aliens is Scott's third short story collection - eight sci fi and sci-fantasy shorts that run the gamut from cyborgs to (comedic) alien invasions: Rise: Because of the rise in sea levels associated with climate change, Venice vanished beneath the lagoon half a century ago. But what if we could bring it back? Ping: I was a real estate agent by day and a museum curator in the evenings at a sci-fi museum. What I saw one night changed everything. What the Rain Brings: Miriam struggles to make a living in post-climate-change Vancouver. But her friend Catalina has it even worse in the Arizona desert. So Miri hatches a plan. High Seven: Zan dreams of making full reals - immersive live virtual reality skins - but his low test score may doom him to a life of cheap graphic coding. Full Real: Dek's given up his life of spying for the city. But one more case awaits him. Will he regret it more if he takes it. or if he turns it down? Shit City: The Bay Area's being walloped by a hurricane, and seventeen-year-old Jason Vasquez has been relocated to a refugee city in the Nevada Desert. Will it be temporary shelter, or a change of life? Firedrake: Kerry has always wondered about his deadly powers. But a mysterious bunch of violet roses start him on the path to discovery - even if he's not sure he's going to like what he finds. The Last Human Heart: I'm one of the Remainers, the few cyborg humans still living on this busted planet. But if my still-human heart finally gives out, I may not live to find out the truth. This is the first time all of these stories have all been collected in one place, and the first time the Pacific Climate Tryptich - What the Rain Brings, High Seven, and Full real - have been published in any form. Warnings: Full Real contains attempted kidnapping and references to off-page physical and sexual abuse. Universal Buy LinkGiveaway Scott is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47265/? Excerpt From The Last Human Heart I slip out of the culvert as the sun falls behind the tawny hills on the horizon, a green flash lighting the sky. My heart beats at a steady pace. Climbing back up onto the highway, I check the co-ordinates. With luck and a steady pace, I should reach the Trading Station by morning. The stag crosses my mind again, that strange stare, beast to beast. There's so little out here for it to live on or in, no trees or shade or shelter from the blistering sun. Just grass. Lots and lots of grass. Where did you go? Taking one measured step after another, I start on my way, timing them to the beating of my heart. A heady sense of possibility fills my chest. It's strange, something I haven't felt in years. I've traveled the length of the continent, from New York to California. I've been to Alaska and as far south as the isthmus, where rising seas finally finished the work of the Panama Canal, severing North and South America. In a few short centuries, humankind accomplished what Nature had labored for eons to do. An hour later, I get my first look at the towers of Sacramento. I haven't been here in decades, but it looks much the same as before. Its hulking skyscrapers and superscrapers look like bloody teeth in the infrared. Many are broken. Some still standing, others long since crashed back to the ground whence they came. They glow with stored heat, slowly bleeding it off into the atmosphere as the air cools. Whence they came? I snort. I'm in rare form tonight—practically Shakespearian. Erik would have teased me endlessly for that. I frown. He's been on my mind a lot lately. Mortality having her fun with me? I flash back to nights in Shanghai, fighting with my metal brothers and sisters in the street-to-street combat of the last wars. Flashes of light and explosions as nano bombs fell into civilian neighborhoods, eating everything in their path—stone and brick, flesh and bone. I shudder. I should delete those memories—they only bring me pain. And yet… sometimes we need to remember the pain, so we don't repeat it. But we can't let it define us. Who said that? Erik? My father? No. It was Cassie. My erstwhile traveling companion for a couple years after the upload. When all that remained in this empty, broken world were the bots and empty, broken cyborgs like Cassie and me. She'd finally shut herself down two decades ago. I'm tired of living, David. Pain leaches away some of my good will. Maybe she had it right. Maybe it's time for me, too, to give in to the inevitable. But I'm not quite ready yet, so I just keep moving. Author Bio Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were. He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends. A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA). Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth/ Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscoatsworth/ Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.lol/@jscottcoatsworth Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth?from_search=true Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/ Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/ Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ RELEASE BLITZ Book Title: I Saw Mommy Kissing the Nanny (An FF Holiday Romance) Author and Publisher: Shannon O’Connor Cover Artist: Alt19 Creative Release Date: December 15, 2022 Genre: Contemporary FF Romance Tropes: Holiday Romance, Nanny/Parent, Single Mom, love after divorce Themes: Holiday Romance, love after divorce Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 60 000 words/225 pages It is a standalone story and not end on a cliffhanger. Pre-Order/Buy Links An FF Holiday Romance Blurb Morgan loves three things; Books, women, and being single. But when Grad school costs more than her rent, she needs to come up with a way to make some money and fast. After a one-night stand with a beautiful woman, she wakes the next morning in a hurry to make it to her interview as a live-in nanny. Despite acing the interview, she has to pass one final test; meeting the mother—who just so happens to be her one-night stand. They both decide to call it a one-night thing and move forward, with Morgan becoming her son’s nanny. As a divorced, single mom Lucy can get all the help she needs. But as the mistletoe is hung and the stockings are filled, are sparks flying too? As Lucy begins to fall for her son’s nanny, she shows her love in a series of her favorite books. Counting down the 24 days of Christmas with Morgan, by trying to tell her how she feels, worried she doesn’t feel the same. Morgan devours each book, desperate to know if Lucy is sending her a sign. But as Christmas approaches, will each woman get what they want? Or will they be stuck out in the cold as the days of Morgan’s nannying contract are up? About the Author Shannon O’Connor is a twenty-something, bisexual, self-published poet of several books and counting. She released her first novel, Electric Love in 2021 and is currently working on several sapphic romance novels. She believes there is a lack of positive Female/Female romances in the world, and wants to make them more accessible. She is often found in coffee shops, probably writing about someone she shouldn't be. Social Media Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Facebook Group Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card Stephen J. Wolf has a new MM fantasy romance out (gay/bi): Kershin the Fire Mage. How do you control a power you hate? Kershin's attempts at a normal life have always been fruitless, but now he's sure he'll be cursed forever. After shunning his fire magic for years, he's now forced to either tame it himself or be tamed by a persistent mage hunter. The harder he tries, the worse the situation gets, and as he's hunted across the land, he leaves destruction in his wake. Hessia has been scarred by a fire mage before, but she's determined to never be helpless again. On her mission to tame the destructive fire mage, she faces trials that shake her to her core. Trials that test her mettle, threaten her beliefs, and decimate the villages she's trying to protect. Will she fall prey to her own hunt? The fire takes. The fire consumes. The fire kills. These two know that very well. As they clash, they discover that the threats they face may be greater than either of them imagined. Excerpt “Look out!” Kershin turned in time to see a brown-haired man careening toward him, arms pinwheeling to keep himself upright. There was no time to react. The man crashed into him, and both went down. Kershin’s satchel of vegetables spilled over the road and greedy townspeople snatched them up. Kershin groused. “What’s the big idea?” “I’m so sorry,” the man said, untangling himself and rising to his feet. He reached a hand down and helped Kershin up. “Here, I’ll help you get back your stuff.” He scurried around, grabbing the vegetables that hadn’t been taken yet. He tucked them into Kershin’s satchel. “Well, it’s not all of them, but at least I got some back for you.” He held out a hand. “I’m Rosh.” Kershin rubbed his side, working out a pang from the fall. He should be mad, but he found he was more curious than anything. He returned the gesture, noting Rosh’s jawline that led to an easy smile. His vibrant blue eyes weren’t unlike his own. He had dark brown hair, cut short and brushed backward, begging for fingers to run through it. His chin was crooked, lifting slightly on one side. The imperfection made him more beautiful, not less. “I’m Kershin.” Rosh grinned. “Kershin. Sorry we met like this, but I have to say, part of me isn’t sorry at all. You’re the best-looking guy here.” Color rose to Kershin’s cheeks. “Okay, so you’ve got spunk. But can you dance?” “Dance?” Rosh laughed. “Well, I think I have the ability to dance, but I’m not really into the dance scene. Are you?” Kershin bit his lip. “Well, no. I’m not even sure why I asked that. Say, what happened to you that you came crashing into me?” “Oh that? You could say I was pushed by someone trying to pick up your vegetables.” His eyes narrowed. “They didn’t spill until after you hit me.” It was Rosh’s turn to blush. “Well, you caught me. I wanted to meet you, and I wanted it to be unforgettable. Forgive me?” He rubbed his arm. There would be a bruise there, for certain. To think, it had been an intentional crash. But he didn’t think Rosh meant to hurt him. There was little harm in letting the incident go. He waited too long to respond. “So you don’t forgive me? I guess maybe I should be on my way.” “No, wait.” He fumbled through his satchel. “Maybe you’d like a tomato?” Rosh snorted. “A tomato?” He didn’t know what he was saying. “I— Well, it’s not damaged.” “And here I should be offering you something. After all, I ruined some of your stuff. Let’s see.” He patted himself down and reached into a pocket. “I have some coppers.” “Keep it.” Kershin held out the tomato and Rosh eventually took it. “Well, the least I can do for your kindness is help you out. The two of us working together, we could rake in the coins. I’ll take on the veggies and you get the rest.” Kershin grabbed for his satchel. “I’m not handing this over to you.” “That’s not what I meant. You’ll see.” He flashed a smile and Kershin filled with warmth. It was too much warmth, he noted, but he pushed the thought aside. Rosh took two steps away, adding his voice to the calls of the vendors. It wouldn’t work, Kershin thought. There were too many others to compete against. He needed more tact. But as he watched Rosh in action, his heart fluttered. The man moved with the grace of a dancer; maybe his awkward question wasn’t so far from the mark. It didn’t take long for Rosh to draw in customers. Kershin worked the sales, successful each time but one. It was better than he could have expected. What was Rosh saying to them? It didn’t matter right then. He could ask later. If there was a later. “How was I?” Rosh asked as Kershin’s supply dwindled. “You’re amazing.” “Am I now?” Kershin chuckled. “I meant to say you were amazing, but I guess it’s true the other way too.” Rosh clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed tightly. “It’s a good thing I spotted you. I couldn’t turn away.” Heat welled inside Kershin where Rosh’s hand was planted. It spiraled from the area, working its way through his body. He gritted his teeth, fighting the sensation. This wasn’t the time or the place for this, but he couldn’t deny the warmth of Rosh’s hand or the excitement he felt that the man had touched him. The heat within him won the battle and raged through his body, centering on his hands. A dim glow came to his fingertips, and he clenched his hands to hide it. But the heat wasn’t done. Fire erupted from his fists, coating his skin for several moments. He slammed his eyes shut and tugged on the fire, desperate for it to stop. Rosh pulled back, but he didn’t flee. “You’d better stop that before it’s too—” “A mage!” someone shouted. “Call the Truists! Quick! A mage in our midst!” Bells rang immediately, echoed by other bells further away. Kershin ignored them, struggling to subdue the flames. Rosh looked around. “We have to get out of here. It’s not safe.” “We?” “Don’t argue. Come on.” Dazed, Kershin drew his hands close. Townspeople crowded around him, blocking the way, but Rosh pushed through them. When Kershin approached, his hands still aflame, the people scattered. But not all of them stayed behind. A few trailed after him. Rosh picked up the pace and Kershin followed, turning this way and that, down one alley after the next. He had no idea where he was. He had never traveled far into the town proper, always stopping at the market to peddle his wares. It was up to Rosh to keep him safe now. Why did he trust this stranger? Was he leading him to the Truists directly? No, that wouldn’t make sense. They wouldn’t be running. Dashing through the alleys exhausted Kershin, and there wasn’t much stamina left in him. “Rosh, wait. I can’t.” His feet gave way and he crashed into the side of a small shed. He reached with his fiery hands for support. The wood drew in the flames, spiraling up to the top of the structure. Kershin’s eyes went wide, and he pulled back, but it was too late. The shed was aflame, and there was nothing he could do about it. Rosh returned and gasped, reaching for Kershin’s elbow and hoisting him to his feet. “Come on!” Kershin huffed, his hands on his knees, wondering if he could even walk. But Rosh’s persistence moved him. Yet before he fled, a woman rushed into the end of the alley. Their eyes locked, then Kershin pulled himself away. Author Bio Stephen J. Wolf is a science teacher with a PhD in science education and a penchant for fantasy books, movies, and video games. Growing up, he loved learning how things worked. When he saw Mr. Wizard's World for the first time, he knew then that science was his place to be. From learning about how fireworks light up with different colors to understanding the mechanics of an acid-base reaction, chemistry and physics became his passion. Stephen started writing in eighth grade when his English teacher challenged the class to craft three different scenes. One scene focused on a person. A second highlighted a location. And the third detailed an object. In the moment of the quick-fire writing prompts, Wolf linked all three tasks together and created his first short story. The following year he created his first novel, then expanded it to a trilogy, growing as a writer along the way. Stephen lives in New York with his husband, Kevin, and their cats, Merlin and Monty. Author Website: https://red-jade.com/ Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/firemages Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/StephenJWolfAuthor Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/firemagekershin Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/260634.Stephen_J_Wolf Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Stephen-Wolf/e/B017AVKJHU This week my featured backlist book is Whiskey and Moonshine. Whiskey and Moonshine is one of my traditional, contemporary, sweet with heat romances. This story has a few tropes and themes but at its core it’s a Pygmalion romance. Colt is a young man living on the streets. Mal is old money, being the third-generation heir to a whiskey distillery. When Colt lands at Kensington Distillery and Still House he falls in love with the place and uses his street smarts to get a job there. He’s a hard, likeable worker and eventually uses some grifter knowledge to get an even better job, one that puts him in daily contact with the owner and master distiller, Mal Kensington. They become friends and that friendship turns to romance. It’s not easy for them. Mal must answer to a board of directors, many of whom see Colt as a gold digger. Mal sees more and knows Colt isn’t motivated in that way. While he’s fighting to keep Colt in his life, Colt is kidnapped forcing Mal to now fight for Colt’s life. Drunk on love. Like a well-aged whiskey, master distiller and old-money entrepreneur Malone Kensington is elegant and refined. Unfortunately he’s also a perfectionist who is more dedicated to the success of his generations-old company than his own love life. That company needs a public spokesman. What Colton Hale lacks in sophistication, he more than makes up for with the charisma that’s allowed him to survive on the street from a young age and charm his way into the lucrative—if overwhelming—public position at the Kensington Distillery. When Mal takes Colt under his wing, hoping to polish off his rough edges, opposites attract and a passionate romance blossoms despite the differences in age and background. But can it survive a Kensington Board of Directors who believe Colt is nothing but a gold digger and a kidnapper determined to profit from the love of Mal’s life—dead or alive? Whiskey and Moonshine is available in paperback, eBook and through Kindle Unlimited. There is a French translation published by Juno Publishing. My teaser this week is from Chained Hearts, book 3 of Sentries. “We do.” She held out her hand, and Todd set the envelope with their letter to Jimmy in her palm. It took her a minute to weigh it and figure the postage, and she chatted away at him while she worked. “I’m Amelia Wilbourne, and you’ve met my children. Are you new in town or passing through?” He also learned in those few minutes she was a widow, her husband had been killed in an accident the year before. She and her children lived with her grandparents. Her brother and his family ran the local lumberyard about a mile down the road. It was way too much information, definitely way too much hair flipping and touching of Todd’s forearm while she was giving it out. “Not sure yet.” Todd smiled at her and handed over payment for the postage, then gave her a quick handshake when she offered her other hand. “We’re definitely here to pick up some supplies.” Reaching behind him, he slipped a finger under Nick’s collar and tugged lightly. Nick stood, stepped closer, and waited placidly beside him. “I’m Todd Ruger. This is Nick, my mate.” Amelia’s gaze barely flicked to Nick, who smiled politely and nodded. “Hello.” His voice was soft, and Todd was likely the only person who’d ever hear the note of insecurity in it. “Well, Mr. Ruger, if you need anything at all, let me know.” She had a sort of predatory sweet smile that made Todd want to shake his head. Nick glared at her more than anything. “I hope we see more of you in here. If there is anything you can’t find, let me know, I’ll have it ordered.” “I bet you will,” Nick grumbled. If she heard him, she ignored him. In fact, other than the first glance she’d spared Nick, she hadn’t acknowledged his presence at all. Todd gave Nick a slight bump on his arm and they grabbed a basket, walking up and down the aisles. Thankfully, Todd found some medicated cream as well as the rest of the supplies they were getting low on. Nick found a book that interested him, which made Todd happy. He made it a point to hand it back to Nick after paying for it. Amelia’s looks were making him nervous. He decided he really wanted her to understand Nick was his mate and Todd was not looking for any other sort of company. Chained Hearts is available in paperback and eBook.
RELEASE BLITZ Book Title: Winning the Season (Miami Piranhas Book 4) Author and Publisher: Beth Bolden Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood Designs Release Date: December 1, 2022 Genres: Gay contemporary sports romance Tropes: Second chance romance, bisexual awakening Length: 100 000 words Heat Rating: 4 flames It is book #4 in the series, but could be read by itself. Buy Links Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK Asa might be the head coach, but he’s a man first. Blurb Coach Asa Dawson has fallen wildly in love only twice in his life. Excerpt Scott’s hands were still trembling. It was like being plugged back into a socket, after so long without electricity, being in Asa’s presence again. Since he’d gotten the call from Beau, he hadn’t really let himself consider what it would mean. What it would feel like. He’d only allowed himself the worry. Asa was sick; he was struggling and in the goddamn hospital. Beau had reassured him, more than once, that he’d be fine, that the doctors weren’t particularly worried, they only wanted him to change his lifestyle. Sleep more. Eat better. Work less. That, Beau had said, was where he came in. He didn’t know anyone else who’d be able to convince Asa to relax the reins. Scott had agreed, because after how things had gone seven years ago, how could he not? How could he not be there for Asa when he needed him, more than anyone else? But he didn’t tell Beau that he wouldn’t be able to convince him of jack shit now. Asa was, understandably, still pissed. Scott couldn’t even blame him. He was still pissed at himself. He’d known the moment he landed in Washington that it was all wrong, that he’d made a mistake, that instead of trying to be so fucking noble, he should have just taken Asa’s hand and kissed him and learned how to be happy. No matter what that meant. But he’d committed to leading Washington’s program, and he’d done that, for six years. Then a year ago, they’d let him go, and he’d gone home, not to Tennessee, because Asa was still there, and the whole damn state didn’t feel big enough for the two of them, but back home to Alabama, to the small town he’d lived in before he’d gone to college. “You alright?” Beau asked as they lingered at the front of the conference room, the rest of the coaching staff taking their seats, grumbling all the way. It was deep into the season, it was the Monday after a game, and they were all tired. Scott remembered exactly how it had felt, on those Mondays, even though he’d only ever coached in college, never in the NFL. “Yeah, fine,” Scott said automatically. He was not fine. Not even remotely. He’d thought . . . well, he didn’t know what he’d thought, exactly. But he hadn’t imagined that he and Asa would meet again like this. He’d imagined running into him—sorta, kinda, on purpose—on the Tennessee campus. He’d imagined making things right. The part of the imagining he’d purposefully forgotten was that Asa was going to be justifiably pissed at him. About the Author A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh. Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas. Author Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter | BookBub Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $20 Amazon gift card. RELEASE BLITZ Book Title: Pretty Policeman Author and Publisher: Fifer Rose Cover Artist: Pretty Indie: Book Cover Designs Release Date: December 1, 2022 Genre: M/M Mafia/Billionaire Romance Tropes: Mistaken identity, forbidden love, sugar daddy kink Themes: Dark themes, but taken fairly lightly and sprinkled with rom-com elements, professional/personal integrity vs. love Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 128 000 words It is the beginning of a series, but can be read as a standalone. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Getting involved with a mafia don was a horrible idea. Falling in love with one was worse. Blurb Detective Micah Hart wasn’t sure when his fairly safe, predictable life became something more closely resembling a dumpster fire. But if he had to pinpoint an exact moment, he would say it was the first time he went undercover as a prostitute in an attempt to bait the notorious serial killer that was stalking New York City’s streets – the media-dubbed Hooker Hunter. It’s when Damon Romano plows into his life, with his fierce protective energy, and those thick thighs, and the bluest pair of eyes Micah has ever seen. If only he wasn’t also a temperamental mafioso in charge of running one of the city’s largest criminal empires. Damon fixates on Micah, obsessing over feeding him and making sure he always has a coat. He spoils him rotten with gifts and insists on taking Micah on as his personal escort – a “boyfriend” to get his nagging sisters off his back. It’s weirdly sweet, and Micah doesn’t know how he’s become a soft spot in the ruthless man’s otherwise hardened exterior, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t want even more: a real relationship with Damon. There was just one teensy, tiny problem with that. Despite what Damon thinks, Micah isn’t actually a prostitute. He’s a cop for the NYPD. Pretty Policeman is an M/M billionaire mafia romance, sprinkled liberally with rom-com elements, served with a side helping of sugar daddy kink and mistaken identity trope. Excerpt “Quit staring.” “I’m not.” “Oh, you are, honey, and I don’t blame you. Those shoulders go on for dayzzz.” “I feel like you said that with a ‘z’. Possibly multiple of them.” “Oh, I did, sweet pea. And that ass. I have one word for it: yum.” “You literally sound like you’re drooling. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been staring, Tessa?” “Of course, I have been!” She didn’t sound the least bit ashamed about it either. “Look at that gorgeous specimen of a man. If he’s not the offspring of some Greek god’s bastard, I will chop off my right tit.” He wrinkled his nose. “Gross.” Even as he pretended to gag over his partner’s declaration, however, Micah found his gaze – and attention – drifting back to the man they were discussing: the supposed descendent of a Greek god. He was tall, at least a couple of inches past six feet, and the suit jacket he was wearing clung to the expanse of his impressively broad shoulders. Said shoulders tapered off to form a trim waist, under which matching pinstripe pants gripped onto thick thighs – which Micah hadn’t known he had a thing for until now. Seriously, even from a distance, Micah knew those things had to be ripped. The man’s entire body looked rock-solid. Micah couldn’t quite make out any facial features, but if there was any justice in the world, the man must have had the epitome of a butter-face. Still, Micah could probably look past it, considering, as Tessa had so eloquently put it: “that ass”. “Micah,” Tessa hissed into his earpiece. (Speak of the devil.) “I said to quit. You’re not even trying to hide your ogling now.” “You also said to look,” he couldn’t help but point out, but he obediently dropped his gaze to the ground, anyway. He was wearing a pair of shabby red Converse. There were holes on the top of the right one where his toes threatened to peek out, and the left had a loose outsole that liked to flap when he walked. Not exactly his usual style, but it wasn’t like Micah had picked them out himself. In fact, he hadn’t picked out any part of his current ensemble. “I meant metaphorically. You’re in the middle of an undercover operation. You can’t let yourself be distracted by every hottie that walks by; you need to keep your wits about you.” Okay, first of all, that wasn’t just any hottie. Secondly- “You’re my handler,” he pointed out. “You need to keep your wits about you.” “Oh, you don’t worry about my wits, honey. I’m not the one that’s thirsting after some babelicious stranger, completely ignoring the potential john coming in at three o’clock.” Micah tensed, subtly peeking in the direction she’d indicated. Tessa was right. A man dressed in a cheap suit was quickly approaching, the graying hair near his temples and the deep-set wrinkles of his brow indicating he was probably in his late forties or early fifties. His uneven gait and the stumble in his step meant he was probably drunk. Micah tried not to grimace as the man got closer and he spotted the wedding band on his finger. The guy didn’t really fit the profile they’d come up with for their perp – he was too old and looked to be married to boot. Most likely, he was just another asshole going through a midlife crisis – not the serial killer going around killing male prostitutes they were searching for. Micah voiced his thoughts aloud, muttering lowly into the mic hidden in his shirt – if the obscene, canary yellow crop top he was wearing could even be considered a shirt. “I doubt he’s our guy, Tess. Too sloppy.” “Probably not,” the woman agreed, “but you never know. You of all people should know that looks can be deceiving. Let him pick you up. If nothing else, you’ll be able to arrest him for solicitation.” Resigning himself to do as she suggested, Micah let himself sink into the brick wall he was lounging against near the mouth of an alley. He winced as the brick scratched against his exposed lower back where his shirt didn’t quite cover the skin, but he forced himself to school his expression as the man moved closer. Honestly, he hadn’t expected to be picked up within the first fifteen minutes of his shift. “How much?” Apparently, Mr. Midlife Crisis wasn’t one for small talk. Which was unfortunate because Micah needed him to actually say the words. “How much for what?” he asked. “Don’t be coy, you little tart.” Micah fought the urge to wrinkle his nose when the man took another step forward and the stench of alcohol hit him straight in the face. He wasn’t intimidated – or, at least, that was what he told himself when arms braced themselves on either side of his head, effectively trapping Micah against the brick wall. Sure, he didn’t have his Glock, but Tessa was watching out for him. Not to mention the fact that he was well-versed in hand-to-hand if worse came to worst. “$100,” Micah said, knowing he was highballing the man even before his bloodshot eyes widened in disbelief. “$100?” he repeated, scoffing. “For a loose hole like yours? I’ll give you $50 if you can even make me bust my nut.” This. douchebag. Micah had planned on just wrangling the man’s hands behind his back and arresting him as soon as he’d said enough to incriminate himself, but now he was pissed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were asking after my mouth,” he retorted. “If you want a piece of the filet mignon, the going rate’s 300 bucks.” He heard Tessa sigh into his earpiece, and judging by the dull thud that followed, could perfectly picture her banging her head against the steering wheel of the undercover van she was parked in across the street. “300 bucks?” Mr. Midlife Crisis sneered. “Who do you think you are? Sluts like you are hardly worth the time it takes for you to get me off.” “You’re the one who approached me, buddy,” Micah reminded him. “Must be worth something.” Admittedly, he wasn’t expecting for the guy to take him by the hair, backpedal him into the alley, and smash his head against the wall. The hit wasn’t hard enough to make his ears ring, but Micah’s eyes watered involuntarily when the man’s grip on his hair tightened, and he leaned his face into his personal space. “How about this, you little bitch? Since your ass is apparently off limits, why don’t you get on your knees so I can show you how you ought to be treating your customers with that smart mouth? Consider it a free lesson. If you manage to bring me to finish, I’ll even think about leaving a tip.” Alright, play time was over. This guy was more than just your typical drunkard looking to pick up a hooker – he clearly didn’t give a rat’s ass whether Micah was willing to blow him or not, he was going to make him. The fact that there were real people out there working the streets and being treated this way – probably pretty regularly – made anger burn hot in Micah’s gut. He was about to elbow the asshole in the throat and force him to his knees so he could slap the zip ties he had hidden on his person for just this reason around his wrists when Mr. Midlife Crisis was abruptly pulled off of him- “Get your fucking hands off him!” -and punched in the face by the man he and Tessa had been ogling but five minutes earlier. Micah watched, taken aback, as the Greek god lookalike pulled back his fist and pummeled the man again. And again. His assaulter fell back onto his ass after the third hit. He scrambled backward awkwardly, attempting to shield his bloody face from more attacks while simultaneously doing the crab walk. Micah may have laughed if he weren’t so stunned. About the Author Fifer Rose is a happily married mother of four human children and two very spoiled cats. When she is not wiping snotty noses or being bullied into feeding her cats (again?!), she can be found obsessing over M/M romance. She loves all the tropes, some of her favorite being enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, sugar daddy, and mistaken identity. She also has a penchant for A/B/O dynamics. While Fifer is a sucker for angst, a happily-ever-after is a MUST in all she reads and writes. Unrelated hobbies include baking, attempting to golf (for her husband’s sake), and daydreaming about traveling. (No actual traveling because did you see the part about four kids?) Social Media Links Facebook Group | Facebook Profile | Newsletter Sign-up Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $20 Amazon gift card. Before anyone could answer the man’s body arched away from the ground and began jerking so violently, he rolled from his back to one side, arms and legs flailing and banging into the floor and walls with enough power Kai heard bones crack. Deep, strangled sounds no living thing should ever make burst out of him and echoed around the corridor, loud enough that Kai’s ears rang. As quickly as it had started the whole episode ended and he flopped onto his back, his mouth, and eyes open but he was deadly still. Declan stepped forward and frowned. “Did he just die?” “Yeah, I think he did.” Lucas handed Forge his hood. “Don’t touch any of that crap.” Moving cautiously, he knelt beside the man and used his glove to tap one of his eyes. When there was no reaction, he leaned down, so his ear was over the man’s face. Lucas laid one hand on the man’s chest then looked up at the others and shook his head. Find many more diverse snippets on the Rainbow Snippet Facebook group. Endosymbiont is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.
RELEASE BLITZ Book Title: Life is Right Here Authors and Publishers: Sophia Soames and Magdalena di Sotru Cover Artist: Sophia Soames Release Date: December 1, 2022 Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Themes: Co-dependency, Found family Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 65 000 words It is book two (of two) in the Life is Good series. The books must be read in order. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited “And here you are,” he said softly. “Like you knew I would be.” We sounded like a bad pop song from our youth. Or an even worse one from the present. Blurb “We’re going to have a brilliant Christmas, Andreas. Just like it was ten years ago, all of us together,” Vati said, placing steaming cups of coffee in front of us. “We’re just pointing out that you and Fredrik always had something special, and you haven’t seen each other for years. It will be lovely for you to reconnect.” “Reconnecting is fine. We can discuss college life versus German nursing schools, drink Jägerbombs and watch weird Norwegian shit on TV. Christmas will be thrilling.” “Andreas…” Vati warned as Lottie burst into giggles. “You adore Fredrik. Still. I can see it in your eyes. You go all panic-stricken and weird when we even mention Freee—” “Fredrik has a girlfriend in America. Maria hates my guts. Frank and Thomas will whip my butt for not visiting over summer, and anyway, I have to buy them a big present to bribe them to even talk to me.” Vati smiled. “Frank and Thomas love you like a son, and they will just hug the shit out of you as usual.” “Alongside Maria’s boyfriend, and Fredrik’s girlfriend. It will be a delightful group hug.” I snarled. “Fredrik’s girlfriend isn’t coming. I told you that,” Vati said sternly. He was pissed off with me already, and we hadn’t even had breakfast. “Whatever.” I huffed. Awkward was the word I was looking for. This whole thing was going to be super awkward. Because they always were. And Fredrik? My world used to spin around the strange, blonde boy who was my best friend for a few years. He lit up my life. Then he fucked off. Well, he fucked off because I told him to. I was stupid and scared. I think he was too. Awkward. That wasn’t even the start of what this Christmas was going to be like. Authors’ Note: Life is Right Here was intended to be a one-chapter Christmas epilogue to Life is Good and Other Lies. This book is still that, an epilogue, and should be read after Life is Good and Other Lies to make sense. We hope that it will bring everything full circle and that you will enjoy, once again, following this family to their final HEA. Trigger warnings: Terminal and life-threatening illness. Bipolar disorder. Talk of suicide and the fear of this. Far too many sugar-laden Christmas foods. This book has an HEA. Excerpt I’d tried. I really had tried. My dads had been together since they were in their twenties, a lifetime. We all knew the story about how they’d met and found love and lost and found and lost and found and then never lost again. It was like a fairy tale, like one of Frank’s favourite movies, even if Thomas kept teasing him that their meet-cute wasn’t actually an epic love story of any sort. He always said it had been fate. Thing was, I’d always wanted that for myself, and I’d thought Andreas had been the one, back when we were teenagers. But then he wasn’t, and I didn’t know what I’d done wrong or why anything had happened in the first place. My flights home to Oslo this time were chaotic and stressful with too many people going somewhere for Christmas. I’d managed to wrap myself into my own bubble of blankets and cheap pillows and dozed over Canada, then watched the ice over Greenland in wide-eyed, jet-lagged wonder. I’d barely registered landing in Paris before rushing through CDG, a mishmash of then-futuristic architecture from the last century and modern, energy-saving solutions that made me dizzy. I barely caught my flight and dozed off again the second I hit my seat. I felt calmer now; home was getting closer. If it was still home, I thought before my brain shut off. “Fredrik!” My dad’s arms were long and warm around me outside customs. I dropped my bag and backpack on the floor. My eyes were wet; my god, how much I had missed him. I leant into his chest and sniffed in the familiar smell of his shampoo and aftershave, the detergent we used at home, his stubble scratching my cheek, his hair tickling my lips. I breathed him for who knew how long. Seconds, minutes, I didn’t care. I was finally home again. About the Authors Magdalena Di Sotru is an information security and data protection enthusiast from Norway. She is a mother of two and wife of one as well as a long-established fanfic writer. Her favourite food is (actually) salads (without mayo), her favourite guilty pleasure is fresh bakery goods (and that explains why everyone would think the salad was a lie). She knows her way around knitting, lock picking and skydiving (all at about equal skill levels – go figure). Life is Good and Other lies was her first novel. Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job. Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The dogs are too. She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in her native Scandinavia. Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue. Social Media Links Link Tree | Newsletter Sign-up | TikTok | Facebook readers group Hurri Cosmo has a new contemporary MM romance out: His Fake Boyfriend. And there's a giveaway. Noah is Griffin Colewater’s best friend and absolutely no one knows him better. Certainly not any of the parade of girlfriends he’s had over the years. Even his most recent, Lauren, whom he has been with the longest. And just broke up with. Does it make Noah a terrible friend if he’s just a little bit thrilled about that? It doesn’t really matter, though. Griffin is the oldest son of the owners of Colewater Properties, a multi-gazillion dollar hotel conglomerate. He is also next in line to take over when his father retires which makes Griffin the most sought-after bachelor in the city. So, another girl is right around the corner. The issue? Griffin’s mother claims to be desperately tired of his playboy antics. She is demanding Griffin settle down with a wife and family “or else”. Being that Griffin has never actually been able to please his mother in anything, Noah doesn’t understand Griffin’s continued hopeless mission to make that happen now. Which makes the huge charity bash his parents are throwing a bit problematic. His mother is insisting on meeting Lauren. Yep. Griffin has yet to tell her he’s single again. And he insists he’s not going to. Instead, Griffin does something insane. He hires a fake girlfriend. Yah. A fake Lauren. Well ― not fake. She’s a ‘Lauren’, too. But that’s not the point. Griffin asked Noah to provide the “girlfriend for months” knowledge to Lauren number two so she could pull this whole ‘girlfriend’ thing off. Honestly. What can go wrong with that? Um… a lot. Because Griffin is not only Noah’s very best friend in all the world, Noah is also so crazy in love with the man, he hurts. A stupid stunt like this could reveal that very thing and freak Griffin’s parents out so badly, they’re going to hire a hit on Noah. But the bigger problem in Noah’s mind? Griffin is totally not gay and if he ever found out Noah’s true feelings? Damn. It could ruin everything. Warning: rough childhoods. Amazon | Smashwords | Universal Buy LinkGiveaway Hurri is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47264/? Excerpt “Ahhhhhhh!” The scream jarred Noah awake and nearly off the couch. With eyes wide and his heart in his throat, he darted his gaze around the large living room, expecting big foot or murderers or at the very least a hot guy running naked across the floor. But there was none of those things. Just Griffin’s latest, his longest actually, standing there trying to cover her nakedness with perfectly manicured fingers. Her hair was only a bit out of place. However, she had no doubt gone to bed with her makeup on. “What’s wrong?” Noah croaked out, trying to calm his heart as Griffin came tearing―okay, stumbling―up the hallway behind her, yanking on a robe. “Lauren? What the fuck?” Griffin made it into the living room to stand beside Lauren. He, too, had perused the room with eyes that were barely open, squinting against the bright early sunshine already pouring in the windows. “Why are you screaming?” She pointed a finger, having to bare a plump breast to do it, right at Noah. “There’s a man in our house.” Griffin glanced at Noah and grinned. “Where?” “Funny,” Noah deadpanned as he flopped back into his pillow, blood still pumping loudly in his ears. “What time is it, anyway?” “Fuck,” Griffin grouched. “Six. Lauren, what the fuck are you screeching at six in the morning for?” “I’m not screeching!” Oh, she so totally was, and it grated on every nerve in Noah’s body. “There’s a stranger sleeping on the couch in my living room!” she insisted. Wait. Her living room? “Don’t be ridiculous,” Griffin yawned. “That’s Noah. You know Noah.” Which was true. It would be hard not to know him if anyone met Griffin even a little. They were pretty much inseparable. “How did he get in here, and what is he doing in our condo at six in the morning?” “He has his own… wait…” There was movement and suddenly Griffin was hunched down near Noah’s head. “Hey buddy, she has a point. What are you doing here? What happened?” “I was kicked out,” Noah moaned sleepily. “What? That asshole!” “Who’s an asshole?” came that shrieking voice again. Evidently, she felt it safer to shout from a distance. “Can you tell her to tone it down a bit?” Noah whimpered. “I can tell her. She won’t listen.” “Quit talking about me like I’m not here!” “Pretty tough to forget that,” Griffin murmured. She squealed again but seemed to storm off because it was blessedly quiet again. Noah really did need to learn to like her better. Or at all. The problem was, she hated Noah. “You’re going to pay for that,” Noah said. “Believe me, I already am. Tell me what happened.” Griffin picked Noah’s head up, scooted himself under it so he was sitting on the couch and laid Noah’s head in his lap. “You need to go do this with Lauren.” “Do what? Besides, I want to find out what happened.” Damn. Noah should never have come here. He wished now he had barged in on Genny and Marcus instead. Of course, he didn’t have an open invitation there like he did here. Still… “Sorry for… well, ruining your morning with Lauren.” “You didn’t ruin anything. Quit stalling. Was it that asshole, Sabastian?” “Who else? He…” “He what?” “He’s a jerk. They’re both jerks. They threw me out last night.” Literally. But he didn’t say that out loud. He was still pretty freaked out about it. “Fuck, Noah, you’re the one on the lease. Not that asshole you let move in with you. Why do you…? Wait. You’re shaking. What else happened?” “I’m… just cold.” Lie. “Hmmm. Well, never mind. I’ll deal with it.” Oh shit. “How?” “I don’t want you to worry about it.” He patted Noah’s head and smoothed his most likely wild hair. “What time did you get here?” “About two.” He had somehow misplaced his wallet. Most likely it was laying on his living room floor having fallen out during the scuffle. Having no money or bus card meant he had to walk instead of being able to take a taxi or even mass transit. Thankfully the doorman knew Noah, and Griffin had left explicit instructions with the building’s staff that if Noah ever needed anything, including a spare key card to Griffin’s condo, he would be given it. “Really? Wow. Go back to sleep.” He continued to stroke Noah’s hair. “Even I got more sleep than that.” Noah opened his eyes and turned his head to stare up at Griffin. “Are you serious? Two o’clock, Griffin. You guys were going at it like… like…” His anxiety tamped up a bit. “Well, whatever. I shouldn’t have come.” Especially since it always depressed him to be reminded Lauren was front and center. And other things. “Of course, you should be here, you know that. Why didn’t you just sleep in the guest bedroom?” Noah rolled his eyes and turned back away. “You mean the one next to your room? You know why.” Griffin harumphed. “Really? What? We were noisy?” “You were deafening. Earsplitting. God. I hate the sound of hetero sex.” Author Bio I am Hurri Cosmo and I live in Minnesota where I hold tight to the idea that here, where it’s cold a good part of the year, I won’t age as fast. Yep, I avoid the truth as much as I avoid mirrors. But one of the reasons I love writing is reality doesn’t always offer up a “happily ever after” and being able to take control of that is a powerful lure. Being a happy ending junkie, writing just makes them easier to find. Oh, I don’t mind “real life” and I do try to at least keep it in mind when I write my stories, but I truly love creating a wonderful couple, knowing they will fall in love and have their HEA. Every - single - time. And, of course, that is exactly the reason I love reading this genre, too. Give me a glass of red wine, some dark chocolate, and my computer, whether I am reading or writing, and I will entertain myself for hours. The fact I actually get paid to do it is Snickers bars on the frosting on the cake. Author Website: https://www.hurricosmo.com Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/hurri.cosmo Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/HurriCosmo Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6466687.Hurri_Cosmo Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Hurri-Cosmo |
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